


A Faceless Woman: A Flightless Bird

by Grayson1996



Series: Rachel Grayson [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Forever Evil (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Age Swap, Batfamily (DCU), Batkids Age Reversal, Bruce Wayne Needs Help, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Dick Grayson is Agent 37, Dick Grayson-centric, Female Dick Grayson, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Siblings, References to Forever Evil (Comics), Spyral (DCU)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 61,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grayson1996/pseuds/Grayson1996
Summary: After being kidnapped, tortured, and (briefly) killed by Lex Luthor and the Crime Syndicate Grayson is forced to take on the role of Agent 37. Her siblings think she's dead, Bruce has turned cold and is only using her for the mission, and she's still reeling from the death of her brother. Will her time with Spyral change her beyond recognition or will her family save her before she's too far gone? Fem Dick Grayson and Batfam Age Reversal.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: Rachel Grayson [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089479
Comments: 39
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my new Rachel Grayson story, please note that the only gender-bent character is Rachel. This is also an Age Reversal story. 
> 
> Damian (Shadow): 28  
> Tim (Knight, previously Batboy): 24  
> Stephanie (Spoiler): 22  
> Cass (Black Bat): 22  
> Jason (Red Hood, previously Batboy): 21  
> Rachel (Robin): 17 at the beginning of the story

It didn’t make sense. None of this made any sense.

The Crime Syndicate had not made any secret of their desire to turn this universe’s Justice Leaguers into villainous versions of themselves. The moment they arrived in this world they made a show of explaining their plan. Informing the league that they just needed to take out one pivotal hero and once that hero was gone the rest of the league would crumble from its moral high ground.

Jason had assumed, like the others, that the key hero was Superman or Wonder Woman. Both were founders and powerhouses in the league and there was no question of their importance within it. Even Batman would have made sense, sure he mostly remained in Gotham but there was no denying that he was also a vital member of the superhero community. Because of this heroes from all over the world flocked to the watchtower to cover the founders and to fight the Crime Syndicate when they appeared.

The strange thing was, they never appeared. Instead, after nearly a day and a half of waiting Bruce received an automatic alarm saying the Manor had been attacked. Assuming he had been the target of the Syndicate, he and the other Bats made their way back to Gotham. Only to find a partially destroyed west wing, an unconscious Alfred, a missing Rachel, and no sign of the alternate Leaguers.

“It just doesn’t make any sense.” Tim’s voice echoed throughout the cave, lifting up his head Jason followed his older brother’s gaze and surveyed the Batcomputer which was once again playing the surveillance video from earlier that day. Tim was staring at the screen, eyes pinched in confusion as he attempted to extract anything from the video that would be able to help them. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t”.

“I just...Why would they take her?” Jason sighed, running his hand through his dark hair looking away from the screen. 

“I’m more concerned about the ‘where’ not the ‘why’ Timbo.” There was no response and after a moment Jason heard the video pause and then restart from the beginning. “Jesus Tim, we’ve watched the video like 20 times, whatever it is you’re trying to find we would have found by now.”

“Maybe they left some clue to where they’re taking her.” Jason had heard this answer before, and feeling himself fall into the pattern they created he stood up and walked towards the computer.

“And why would they do that?” Tim shrugged, his black cape rustling slightly with the movement.

“Maybe they’re actually after B, maybe she’s just the bait.” 

“Not likely.” Whipping his head to the side Jason saw Batman striding into the cave, a small USB in his hand and Black Bat darting in behind him. Once he reached Jason and Tim, the two moved out of his way so that he could stick the device into the computer. A small loading box appeared on the screen.

“They sent in a video?” Jason asked looking over to Bruce.

“No, it’s some sort of VPN, it’s allowing us to connect to a secure video call. It was sent to the Hall of Justice 30 minutes ago.” Jason raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“And the League let you bring it here instead of the WatchTower?” 

“Of course not... I neglected to tell the League about this recent development.” Despite himself, Jason felt a small grin spread across his face. Ever since Rachel had gone missing the League had tried to flock to Gotham much to the chagrin of the family. Rachel was a Bat, and they would get her back their way. Turning his attention away from his Father, Jason watched as the loading bar inched closer to completion.

“Oracle tracking the signal?” A loud mechanical voice filled the cave.

“You better believe it wonder boy.” Jason’s grin morphed into a scowl at the nickname but before he could say anything the connection finished. A dark empty room filled the screen and for a moment it was quiet. Everyone watched as a tall man with an owl mask and metal wings entered the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Jason noticed Bruce tense slightly at the sight of his alter ego.

“I trust that the rest of the League is unaware of this communication?” Jason suppressed a flinch at the sound of Owlman’s voice. The man sounded eerily similar to Bruce in tone and inflection but without an ounce of emotion or warmth. Bruce however wasn’t phased by the man and gave a short clipped nod. “Good, it’s not time for them yet.” Owlman stepped closer to the screen and after a moment took off his cowl. 

Jason could hear Tim inhale sharply at the sight. The alternate Bruce Wayne was just as old as their Bruce, had slightly graying hair and the beginning of wrinkles appearing around his mouth. But his eyes were dead, void of any life, of any emotion. Even at Bruce’s worst, Jason could always see a gleam of hope, a flash of anger, a flicker of sadness, something in Bruce’s dark eyes. But Owlman was empty of everything. Bruce was still for a moment before he reached up and took off his own cowl.

“Where is she?”

“It’s not time for you to know that yet.” Bruce’s lips pursed in anger. “If you took her to get to me then-”

“We did not.” Jason felt his eyebrows come together in confusion.

“Then why did you take her?” Owlman’s gaze flickered from Bruce to Jason, and after a moment of intense scrutiny Owlman responded.

“The others don’t know I’m doing this, the only planned communication was the broadcast but I felt...I was compelled to warn you before then.”   
  
“Warn us of what?” Bruce growled hands clenched tight in a fist.

“Rachel Grayson will be murdered tonight. She has to die for our mission to be successful.” Jason felt his stomach drop at the declaration, at the cold sentencing of his sister’s death.

“No, she isn’t.” Jason looked over at Tim who was staring at Owlman in a calculating way, his shaking hands the only thing conveying his anger. “You said that you were going after the strongest leaguer. That’s not Rachel. Rachel isn’t a leaguer, she’s not even 18.” Owlman stared at Tim the same way he had at Jason, piercingly, before replying.

“Strength is not dictated by how hard one can punch. We’ve been to many Earths, many universes and in each one the person who has come closest to defeating us is Nightwing. Rachel is younger here than in past worlds but there is no question that she is a threat.”  _ Nightwing _ ? The unfamiliar name threw Jason for a loop. But Owlman continued on. “However, Rachel is not only a threat, she is the key. Our mission is not one of senseless murder. It is to convert every universe's League into The Crime Syndicate. Into its strongest self.”

“And to do that you have to murder my daughter?” Bruce’s venomous tone cut off Owlman’s tangent and for the first time, Jason saw some semblance of emotion flicker in the villain's eyes. An intense sadness.

“I have tried it many different ways. I have killed many different heroes, pulled many different strings. But her death is the only thing that ensures our success. I do not revel in it.”

“Then stop it.” Jason heard slight desperation seep into his tone. “Stop them. Save her. You couldn’t save your Rachel, but why should you damn ours?” A moment of hesitation flickered in Bruce’s eyes before they hardened again. Placing the cowl back onto his head Owlman stepped back from the screen.

“It is our mission, there is nothing more important than its success.” Owlman turned his back to them and began to walk away. “It is time, this will all be over soon.” The screen went black for a moment before tuning into another room. This one gray, but also empty.

“Oracle, where are they?” Bruce asked, gaze locked onto the screen.

“He was bouncing the signal B, I need a moment to try and get a lock on the exact location.” Before Bruce could answer the Crime Syndicate came onto the screen, dragging a limp and bloody body in with them. The body was thrown forward and Jason felt himself tense at the sight of his sister. Feeling a moment of relief when she let out a soft noise of discomfort.

“Oracle-” Bruce’s voice teetered on the verge of distress.

“I’m working on it Bruce, I have three possible locations-”

**“People of the United States, what we are about to show you gives us no pleasure.”**

“Wait, is this broadcasting?” Tim asked in horror.

“Oracle?” 

“I’m working on it. I can cut the broadcast but if I do then I won’t be able to narrow down her location and I still have three possible spots she could be in.”

**“But it is our duty to ensure that your Justice League becomes the greatest version of itself it can be.”**

“Cut the feed.”

**“To do that, one hero must be sacrificed for the greater good of your universe.”**

Rachel was lifted up in front of the camera. Her entire face was covered in bruises and blood dripped from the side of her mouth and from a cut above her eye. It was clear that the rest of her body hadn’t fared much better, and slashes ran through her clothes, dripping blood onto the ground. She was dressed in a dark black and blue costume that the Syndicate must have brought with them from their universe. A black domino mask covered her eyes and her hair had been roughly pulled back into a ponytail. Despite the costume and injuries, there was no question that this was Robin. Hands danced around her mask as though they were about to pull it off, and Jason felt his stomach drop once again. Bruce leaned forward staring at Rachel in dread.

“Oracle, the feed?”

“I’m almost done Bruce, I just need a second.”

**“Nightwing must be sacrificed for the betterment of the league. But before that can happen you will know her name.”**

“Oracle!”

**“In this world, she goes by Robin the Girl Wonder, but her real name is Rachel Grayson.”**

Hands ripped the mask off of Rachel’s face. Rachel’s eyes were squeezed shut as though keeping them close would keep her identity safe. But the damage was already done. Jason felt himself sink to the ground in horror.

**“The Crime Syndicate has one mission, that mission is to unleash the true potential of your Justice League so that they too can rise from the ashes as we have. Rachel Grayson will be killed for our mission, only then will we succeed, only then will we leave this universe and move to the next.”**

The screen went black, and the cave was silent.

Jason felt his head drop into his arms. The image of his sister’s battered and unmasked face seared into his brain. Bruce shuffled next to him and typed something onto the Batcomputer.

“Oracle, report.”

“I managed to stop the national broadcast, it was close… god it was to close...but it cut right before they said her name. Only we saw the last bit.” A loud exhale of relief came from his left and Jason felt Tim clasping his shoulder in comfort.

“And her location?”  _ Right, they’re not out of the woods yet _ . Getting up from the ground Jason turned to Bruce and felt Tim do the same. Cass, who had been standing on his other side, waited silently. Mask still on and obscuring her face so that they couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Because I had to switch from tracking the signal to the broadcast I was only able to narrow it down to three locations. You’ll have to split up.” Bruce nodded and picking up his cowl he placed it back onto his head, becoming Batman once more. Moving quickly towards the Batmobile he shouted orders behind him. Leaving Jason, Tim, and Cass to follow quickly after him.

“Jason and Tim will go to one, BlackBat will meet up with Spoiler to go to the other, I will cover the last location.” Turning around just before he got to the car, Bruce stared at them. “As soon as you get to your location radio the others, if you find Rachel radio the league. Only fight the Syndicate if you absolutely have to.”

“And if we get there too late?” Jason felt the words slip from his mouth before he could stop them. Grimacing slightly as Bruce turned to glare at him.

“Don’t.”

********************************************************

When Rachel found out an evil version of the League had appeared on their Earth with the intent to turn her League evil, she had not seen this coming.

She had not anticipated being attacked in her own home. She had not expected to be beaten and tortured and then unmasked on national tv. And she certainly had not predicted that the evil leaguers would forcibly attach her to a bomb that counted down with every heartbeat.

A bit overdramatic if you asked her.

And yet here she was, shirtless, with a bomb piercing through her sports bra into her chest (which ouch). She tried not to think about the scope of her situation because that just elevated her heartbeat which was a big no-no. It didn’t help that her entire family was probably on their way to save her, not realizing that this was a trap. And even if Superman was with them he wouldn’t be able to see through the lead-lined walls.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop. Your heartbeat is going faster than I’d like.” Looking up Rachel glared at the other man in the room who was leaning casually against the wall looking at her with an expression of pure disgust.

“You got yourself into this mess, If I’m blowing up then you’re going with me.” Rolling his eyes Lex Luthor turned his gaze away from her and looked at the doorway, waiting. Rachel however never did well with silence and spoke again. “What did you expect would happen? You’d give them access to your Superman proof building and they’d let you join their super-secret syndicate boyband?

“Do you ever shut up?” Rachel smiled at his annoyance, wincing as it aggravated the cut on her lip.

“Nope.” Rolling his eyes once more Lex turned back to her and strode toward where she was dangling in the center of the room. Eyes flicking briefly to the device in her chest before meeting her gaze.

“I don’t know how Bruce Wayne does it, living with five bratty children running around his manor constantly. Though I suppose it’s four now, soon to be three. How do you think your Father will feel about losing two children mere months apart?” Rachel winced at the reminder that her secret identity was not so secret and quickly danced around any thoughts about Damian’s death.

“You’re very confident for someone locked in a room with a bomb.” Lex lifted up a piece of her hair in disinterest before letting it fall through his fingers.

“I had hoped that the evil version of Superman might like me more than his hero counterpart. The fact that he left me here to die is not ideal but not entirely unexpected. I always have a backup plan.” A loud banging filled the room and it was clear that someone was trying to come in from the other side. “Speak of the devil.”

The door opened and Merci came running into the room carrying a suitcase, steps behind her ran Batman. As soon as the two entered the room the door slammed shut behind them.

“Congratulations.” Luthor drawled, making his way over to his bodyguard and taking the case from her. “You’ve found Robin.” Batman’s gaze snapped over to Rachel and he quickly made his way to where she was hung up. Rachel felt her heartbeat quicken at the realization that he was now trapped with her and the bomb.

“Batman you have to leave, it's a trap.” As soon as he reached her he took her head in his hands and looked her over. “Bruce you need to leave please, there’s a bomb.” His gaze dropped to her chest and she could see his jaw tense in anger at the sight of the wires intruding into her chest. His eyes flickered back up to hers, set in determination.

“I’m going to disarm it and get you out of here, Rachel.” 

“You don’t understand-”

“The countdown is monitoring her heart Batman” Both turned to look at Luthor who inched nearer to them, hands clasped behind his back. “The detonator is hooked into it.” Batman turned back to the bomb and began inspecting the wires. Rachel took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Batman the bomb... it only disarms if my heart stops.”

“No.”

“B-”

“No. I’m not going to let that happen.” Pulling his hand away from her chest, Batman activated the comm in his ear. “Batman to Oracle, I’ve found Robin and require assistance.” Rachel blinked back the tears that were starting to form, she would not let herself break, not now. 

“Bruce it won’t work.”

“Batman to Redhood and knight do you copy?” 

“Bruce. This building was designed to keep out Superman. It was designed to keep out everyone. There isn’t any signal in here.” Dropping his hand from his ear Batman focused back on the bomb. Taking another deep breath Rachel continued. “Please listen to me, you still have time to get yourself out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you, Rachel.” Bruce looked up at her in anger, desperately trying to mask his own terror. “I’m not abandoning you. I am not leaving my kid to die alone with a bomb, not again do you understand me?” Of course, he was thinking about Jason, even Rachel had to admit there were a few similarities.  _ Me and Jason should make merch ‘I was blown up by a supervillain and all I got was a stupid shirt’. _

“Bruce, it’s not the same, you’re not abandoning me-”

“Stop.” Rachel felt her mouth close tightly at the order ”I’m not leaving here without you.” A loud blast filled the room and Batman was thrown away from her, looking up she saw Merci holding a large laser. “What the hell are you doing Luthor?” Rachel could no longer see Bruce but she saw Merci run over to where he presumably was and could hear the two fighting. Luthor stepped in front of Rachel.

“I’m making an executive decision Batman, I’m saving our lives...by ending her’s.” Lex’s hand clasped itself over Rachel’s mouth and nose and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She felt a small pill forced into her mouth and instinctively Rachel swallowed in an attempt to get air. Rachel stared into his eyes in panic, struggling violently against her restraints. Strangely she noticed a look of pity flicker across his face as he tightened his hold. “I’m sorry Ms. Grayson.”

A trail of fire followed the pill down her throat before enveloping her heart. The fire expanded into a sharp pain that almost distracted Rachel from the fact that she couldn’t breathe. Distantly she could hear Bruce shouting but the fire in her chest held her attention. Even as it began to dim and black spots began to fill her vision. Her body continued to jerk softly, and she felt her eyelids grow heavy, her ears slowly muffling as though filled with cotton. Pulling her gaze away from Luther she managed to catch sight of Bruce running towards her eyes wide. Then finally her eyes shut.

********************************************************

“Are you ever afraid?”

“Perhaps you could be more specific?”

“Are you ever afraid to die?” Damian looked up from the book he was reading and looked at his sister who was standing in front of him staring at the ground. Closing his book with a sigh he set it down on the coffee table and gestured to the empty spot on the couch next to him. In an instant, Rachel filled the space and leaned into his side. After a moment of hesitation Damian draped his arm around her shoulders.”

“Why do you ask?” Rachel was silent for a moment which caused Damian’s worry to spike. The 14-year-old was many things but quiet was rarely one of them. He said nothing however, as he let his sister collect her thoughts.

“It’ll be a year on Friday.” Damian did not need to ask for clarification. On Friday it will have been a year since his Father’s death. A flash of sadness washed over him at the thought, followed by annoyance as his mind flickered to Tim who was still off working with his Al Ghul, certain that Bruce wasn’t dead. Neither of those things were important now however, as Rachel waited for his response.

“I hadn’t realized it had been a year already.”

“I wasn’t keeping count or anything, Cass had asked if I wanted to hang out and I couldn’t figure out why because usually she has dance late on Fridays. And I just kind of realized...I can’t believe it’s been a year.” Damian shared that sentiment. Much had changed since his Fathers passing, he and Grayson had always been close, ever since his Father brought her into the family when she was 8 and newly orphaned. Especially after Jason had died and his Father was...absent. But over the last year, their sibling bond had morphed into something more parental. That wasn’t something Damian was ready to discuss however so he simply pulled Rachel closer.

“Neither can I.” The two sat in pleasant silence for a moment before Damian remembered her original question. “I’m not.” Rachel looked up in confusion and Damian smothered an affectionate grin. “I’m not afraid to die. Mother instilled in me early on that it was a senseless fear. We all die, and we can’t control when or how so there is no use fretting about it. I do however fear other things.”

“Like what?” Damian took a deep breath, he had been unprepared for this conversation, but he had been trying his best to be more open.

“I fear what will happen to others once I die. I fear losing you and Todd, Cain and Brown, Drake-” Rachel let out a snort and this time Damian did smile, “Yes even Drake - As much as I am loath to admit it - You all are my family. If I die then I would not be there to protect you.” Rachel thought that over for a moment before sending a brilliant grin his way.

“Well, then I suppose you’re not allowed to die.” Ignoring the sensible part of his brain that was saying there was no way he could promise that, Damian pulled Rachel in closer to his side and kissed the top of her head.

“I shall do my best.”

********************************************************

**GASP**

“Rachel?” The warm hands that cradled her tightened as frantically she breathed in. Blinking wildly into the bright lights above her. A dark figure leaned over her and her eyes swam trying to focus in on the person. “Rachel?” The familiar voice was tight with fear, or maybe hope, images of a tall man with dark blue eyes and a sometimes stern, sometimes kind smile filled her mind.

“Bruce?” She felt him take a stuttering breath before she was pulled into his arms. Weekly she nuzzled into his side. Unable to wrap her arms around him due to the pain that radiated throughout her body. She whimpered slightly in pain.

“It’s ok now, we’re going home.” She let herself be carried out of the room, her focus on the soft thud of Batman’s boots against the concrete. A feeling of safety wash over her, she was sure she would be a mess later when she had time to process things. But for now all that mattered was that she was going home. The two turned a corner and Bruce stopped, jolting her back into awareness. Still, she did not have the strength to look up.

“I’m taking her and you won’t stop us, I won’t let you.”

“I’m not here to stop you.” Rachel felt a cold shiver roll down her back at the sound of Owlman’s voice. “I want you to win.”

“You tried to kill her.”   
  


“No, I tried to save her. We’ve been to many universes, and in each one it is the same. She is unmasked, she is hooked to a bomb, Luther is with her, he kills her to save his own skin. But this time, this time you were there.”

“He still killed her.”

“Yes. But because you were there, he brought her back.”

“Earlier when you called to warn us… You never did that before. With the others.”

“....My Gotham is gone. Alfred is dead. Cass and Jason died trying to take me down, Stephanie and Tim were killed by Superman. She is all I have left, I can’t let her die again.”

“She’s not yours.” 

“...They will watch, only for a while to make sure she is truly dead. Once they are sure they will forget about this world. You must keep her hidden.”

Silent steps walked towards them and she could feel Bruce grab something with his hand. After a moment the steps walked away and the two of them just stood there. Bruce, silent and unmoving, Rachel barely holding onto consciousness. Finally she felt them begin to move, and after what felt like a second, though must have been several minutes, the cool Gotham air rolled across her face. She could hear the Batmobile drive over to them and when it arrived Bruce opened the door and she felt herself being laid across the back seat. She expected to hear the door close and Bruce to get in the front but after a moment of silence, she slowly opened her eyes.

He was standing over her, cowl resting around his neck with an unreadable expression across his face.

“Bruce?” He kept watching her for a moment before he seemed to come to a decision. Brushing a hand through her hair he pulled out a syringe from the side of his belt. Gently pulling her arm toward him he placed the needle at the crook of her elbow above a vain and slowly pressed it into her. “Bruce?” She asked again, this time in confusion. Pulling the needle out, he placed it back into his belt.

“Just a sedative, you’ve been through a lot. Go to sleep, we’ll talk when you wake up.” Unable to respond with the drug already flowing through her, Rachel simply nodded her head and closed her eyes again. Letting the tantalizing pull of unconsciousness finally pull her under. 

  
  


********************************************************

  
  


When Rachel woke up again it was strange. 

When she was 15 after a particularly awful fight against Two-Face she had been placed into a medically induced coma to recover. For two weeks she remained unaware and stagnant in a medical cot. When she awoke her body felt strange, having been unused for so long all her limbs felt disconnected from her body. Her mouth felt dry from the oxygen mask, and her eyes were overly sensitive to even the smallest of light.

When Rachel woke up this time, it felt exactly like that. Like more time had passed than just a night. Blinking her eyes to get accustomed to the fluorescents above her she took in the familiar sight of the Bat Infirmary. The cave was silent, absent of any noise, or any life. That itself was strange. Usually, when Rachel was injured she woke to the sight of all her siblings draped across various chairs pulled up beside her bed. Alfred could be heard coming down the stairs with tea or blankets. And Bruce would hover just outside the room divider, waiting for when she woke up.

Now, however, there was just silence.

Slowly moving her hand to her face, Rachel pulled the oxygen mask away from her mouth. Looking to her right arm she saw the IV and gently she untaped it and pulled it out as well. Sitting up she stilled when a wave of vertigo crashed over her. After a moment of letting it settle down she swung her legs over the cot and placing her bare feet against the cold cave floor she stood up. Walking around the room divider she made her way to the main part of the cave, certain now that no one was there. Going to the elevator she pressed the button for the main-floor only for a small red light to pulse in error. With a frown, she pressed the button again, and again it blinked red. Turning towards the Batcomputer she turned it on with the intention to restart the elevator, only to realize that a private WatchTower communication log was up on the computer.

Superman 10092: We’re worried about you B please just let us know that you're okay. (Mon. 3:45pm)

Superman 10092: Hood let us know that you’ve initiated lockdown in the cave, when need to talk. (Tues. 9:50pm)

Superman 10092: I know it's hard B, but your kids need you. It's been three days (Fri. 11:42pm)

Superman 10092: Me and Diana are arriving early Sunday, we hope to see you before everyone arrives (Sat. 10:13am)

Superman 10092 You need to come upstairs, no one wants to start without you. You owe it to Rachel, B. (Sun. 8:30am)

Superman 10092 We had the funeral, we couldn’t wait any longer. If you want to talk we're here, if not that's fine, but you can't lock yourself away. (Sun. 1:00pm)

Vaguely Rachel could hear the sound of the Batmobile drive into the cave but she couldn’t look away from the screen. The car door opened and the sound of heavy footfalls walked towards her. She waited for a moment, hoping that Bruce would say something, anything to explain this. But he remained silent.

“What the hell is this Bruce?”

“We had your funeral today.” A wave of fury rushed through her and spinning around she glared at Bruce, who looked down at her with a blank look stretched across his face.

“I’m alive.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” She spat out, confusion and anger spinning around in her head. Bruce stared at her for another moment before throwing something at her. In reflex she caught it and looking down she realized that it was boxing tape. 

“Then prove it.” Looking back up she placed the tape on the keyboard refusing to participate in whatever game he was playing.

“Bruce, what is going on?” 

*CRACK*

Rachel felt her head snap to the side and the rest of her body followed, crashing to the floor from the force of the punch.

“Bru-” Another punch was coming towards her and quickly she scrambled out of the way, flipping backwards and wobbling slightly when she landed.

“I trained you to live, and I watched you die.” His words stabbed into Rachel's chest like a dagger, leaving her breathless. Bruce stalked towards her, hands raised, ready for a fight. “I trained you to live, AND I WATCHED YOU  **DIE!** ” Another swing, this one landing at Rachel's chest, causing her to stumble backward. “After that, I need to know if you can come back, if you’re  **strong enough** , for what comes next. I need to know if you’re  **strong enough** to make the sacrifices we will always have to make.” In an instant, Bruce was at her side foot striking out in a kick that sent her flying several feet. “I have a  **mission** for you Rachel.”

“Are you crazy? What the fuck is wrong with you right now. I’m not going on a mission. I’m not going to pretend that I’m dead. I'M ALIVE.” Bruce was running towards her, sweeping her legs under his feet she leaped away as he fell. Bruce stood, voice switching into one he used for mission reports. He lunged forward.

“Spyral, the espionage group. They fight the usual evil around the world, terrorists, murderers, the cowardly and superstitious.”

*Punch, Dodge, Kick, Dodge, Slap, Hit, Flip*

“They’re hunting for masks… for hero's identities, I’m not sure why but whatever the reason I know it’s not good. They’re planning something, big, something deadly. I need you to figure out what that is.” The two were dancing around the room trading hits, Rachel getting more than she was giving. Her already battered body was feeling fatigued.

“I can’t, I can’t lie to them. To Jay, Tim, Cass, any of them. I can’t let them think I’m dead.” Bruce ignored her, continuing his monologue as he fought.

“They’ll come for you now. They’ll want someone like you, someone off the grid, someone who knows our secrets... If you’re not dead then they’ll come for you, a masked woman without a mask.” Bruce decked her across the face sending her flying into a rack of batarings. “They’ll come for you and you’ll let them.”

“Everyone thinks I’m dead, they must think I’m dead too Bruce. I’m not going to do this.”

“You’ll go on the run, be seen by just enough cameras that they’ll find you. They’ll be looking for you, I’ve made sure of it.” Rachel felt horror wash over her body and she felt herself freeze, surprised when Bruce did as well.

“You’ve already planned this, all of this. I don’t have any say in the matter, is that it? I’m just your puppet and you’ve already decided the best way to move my strings to make me dance.” Bruce stared at her, and for the first time since they started fighting Rachel saw past his blank facade, she saw anger.

“You failed...you let yourself be unmasked” Something shifted in Bruce at his words and straightening his back he continued. “Let yourself be killed. You put us all in jeopardy and now I have to fix your mess. You care about your brothers, your sister? Then you’ll do this because this is the only way to protect them. Work undercover, gather information from Spyral so I can stop whatever it is their planning, so I can prevent more heroes being unmasked.” Rachel knew Bruce was guilt-tripping her, knew he was playing her to get what he wanted. But she was also so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of arguing, tired of death. Sitting down on the ground she covered her head with her hands.

“After this Bruce, after doing this... We’re done. I’m done. Do you understand?”

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice because I don’t give up, I don’t give in… Do you?” Taking a deep breath Rachel looked up, a sense of hopelessness filling her. When she first met Bruce he had been kind and understanding. Had taken care of her. But then Jason died, and then he came back, and then Bruce went into the time stream, and Damian died. And with each blow, he had gotten colder and colder until there was no sign of the man Rachel had begun to see as a Father. A deep ache filled her heart and for a moment all she wanted was to see Damian again.

But he was gone. And now she had to protect the family she had left.

“Tell me what I have to do.”

********************************************************

Rachel sat in her motel room, blinds closed. A book bag carrying only a change of clothes and a cellphone sat next to her. Staring in front of her she sat and waited. After an hour a strong knock resounded against the door. Squaring her shoulders she stood up and moved across the room. Without looking in the peephole she unlocked and opened the door to come face to face with a tall tan man. A beige scarf covered his dark hair and piercing green eyes stared down at her.

“Rachel Grayson, my employer is very interested in meeting you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are curious, here are portions of the Rachel Grayson timeline that won’t necessarily be touched upon in this main story.
> 
> Her parents died when she was 8, she spent a month in juvie before being taken in by Bruce. Just before her Cass joined the family at 13 and Jason joined at 12.
> 
> When she was 11 Jason died at the age of 15. Damian found him a year later in Nanda Parbat when he was visiting his mother and brought him home.
> 
> Bruce was lost in the timestream when Rachel was 13 and came back a year and a half later. During that time Damian became her guardian. Tim still went off to find Bruce.
> 
> Damian (Shadow): 28  
> Tim (Knight, previously Batboy): 24  
> Stephanie (Spoiler): 22  
> Cass (Black Bat): 22  
> Jason (Red Hood, previously Batboy): 21  
> Rachel (Robin): 17 at the beginning of the story

Seeing his little sister’s body, hanging limp in Bruce’s arms, was a sight that would never leave Jason’s mind.

Jason had not had an easy life. His Father had been cruel and his Mother, though kind, had been too wrapped up in her own issues to properly take care of him. The time he spent on the street before being adopted had morphed and shaped him in ways that Bruce could never understand. And his own death had resulted in a load of trauma that he was still trying to unpack.

However, he would gladly put up with every bad moment, every mental break, if it meant that what he was seeing wasn’t true.

Slowly Bruce entered the cave, Rachel’s head tucked into his chest, body frozen with a stillness that Jason had never seen on her. And for a moment he thought that it would be okay, for a moment he allowed himself to believe that she was simply unconscious. But then he saw Tim crumble to his knees a loud keening cry erupting from the usually stoic man. A cold numbness settled into his stomach as he rushed forward towards his brother, pulling him into a desperate hug. Distantly he could hear a soft gasp come from Cassandra. But his only focus was on his older brother. 

Now, it’s not that he didn’t like Tim, in fact his brother had been one of the things that made his move to the manor enjoyable. The two had quickly teamed up against Damian, who had yet to soften to the concept of siblings. Soon after his own move Rachel and Cass had joined the family as well. The four of them had grown up together and despite the age differences they had bonded through trauma and change. No, it’s not that Jason didn’t love Tim, but over the last few years the two had grown apart and he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his Brother so...gutted.

Jason tighten his hold and buried his head into Tim’s hair. His thoughts went to Rachel but squeezing his eyes tightly shut he forced them away. He would not allow himself to break, he would not allow himself to crumble. Not when his family needed him to be strong. Lifting his head his eyes sought out Cass. His sister was looking away towards the med bay where Bruce had gone with the body. Her body was still, neutral, but her hands shook despite the fact that they were clenched tightly in fists. 

“Cass.” She did not move at the sound, her gaze did not waiver from the bay. Softly he could hear Alfred descending down from the Manor. “Cass.” He tried again, voice breaking slightly at the start. When she moved her head this time he could see tears beginning to form in her eyes. Taking his right arm from around Tim he opened it up and without hesitating his older sister flew towards them. When she reached them she coiled herself tightly around Tim, and Jason lowered his arms. Tightening his hold once more, as though he could protect them from their grief.

Entering the room Alfred stilled at the sight of them. His calm facade breaking for a moment as he took them in and the realization hit. 

“Where are they?” The butler’s voice did not break, looking him in the eye Jason nodded towards the med bay. Nodding, Alfred turned from them and walked away.

They stayed that way for a while. A mass of limbs and hair. Tim’s sobs quieting into soft hiccups that made him sound younger than the 24 he was. Cass never made a sound, but Jason knew she was crying, could feel his shirt dampening where her head lay. The whole time Jason just sat with them, eyes dry, mind blank, staring at anything and everything. The Batcomputer, the giant penny, the T-Rex. When the bats squawked he turned his gaze above, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to see them in the dark of the cave ceiling. His mind moved on to each image quickly, wandering and never landing, never staying still. Perhaps if he kept looking at new things, the image of his sister would be replaced with something else.

Eventually, Alfred walked back out and towards their huddle. An age and wariness in his movements that Jason had never seen before. In a move that surprised Jason, the man sat down next to them on the cave floor. Radiating dignity even as he sat butt on his heels and hands at his knees. After a moment of hesitancy, Alfred lifted his hand and grasped Jason’s arm. And for the first time that night, Jason felt steady.

“We… We will be okay Master Jason. We will move forward. We have no choice but to.”

And well, Jason could not argue with that.

  
  


The night passed, slowly and without rest, but it did pass. Early morning found the small group gathered around the table. The informal one pushed to the side of the kitchen, used for hurried breakfasts and quiet teas. At some point, Tim and Cass had extracted themselves from his arms. Cass still kept a hand wrapped around his wrist, Tim however seemed embarrassed by his moment of weakness and looked everywhere but Jason.

Bruce didn’t join them. Jason hadn’t seen his Father since the man first arrived at the cave with the body. Jason didn’t know how he felt about that. 

Alfred had left them in the early hours of dawn, to rest he said. But Jason thought he wanted to grieve without an audience. Wanted to break in a way he didn’t feel he could around his charges. A small ringing shattered the silence and the three looked over to Cass’s cell phone vibrating on the table. Reluctantly releasing Jason she picked up the phone and looked at the contact. 

“Stephanie.” She said in explanation, and picking up the phone she gracefully exited the room to take the call. Blondie was off in DC, she had left last week to research her Grad Thesis and had not heard the news. With a heavy sigh, Jason ran a tired hand across his face, rubbing heavily into his eyes until little black and white dots span across his vision. He let the effect linger for a moment letting it distract him until finally, it settled. Slowly blinking open his eyes he noticed Tim staring at him in a way that left him feeling off-kilter. 

“What?” Tim just stared at him. Not saying anything, just observing, before finally he stood up. Clapping Jason’s shoulder with his hand. Like a tableau the two remained still, Tim standing straight, hand resting firmly on Jason’s shoulder with his head bowed in what looked like prayer. Jason, sitting at the table, looking upwards at his brother. Knowing that there was no point in praying. No pointing in asking someone who wasn’t there to bring his sister back to life. He had tried that when Bruce had “died” then again for Damian. He wouldn’t let himself be disappointed again.

That was how the week went. Quiet moments with no one really talking, no one really connecting. Just drifting aimlessly around the manor, waiting. Word had gone out to the hero community about Rachel’s death and a private funeral was scheduled for that Sunday. The public funeral wouldn’t be for months, that way no one would connect Robin to Rachel.

All that week Jason wandered. And for the whole week, Bruce would not leave the cave. On Tuesday he initiated lockdown, preventing anyone from going up or down. Jason didn’t have the energy to try to talk to him. Instead, he sent a message to Clark, if anyone could get through it would be the Man in Blue. Meanwhile, Stephanie had arrived back in town and had calmed both Cass and Tim with her presence. Anytime he would pass them huddled together in a room he would hear them talking about Bruce. _‘How do you think he’s doing? Should we do something? Try and talk to him? Why would he lockdown the cave?’_. They talked, they conspired, they worried but Jason did not join them. He wasn’t worried about Bruce.

No, he was angry.

Jason was furious that his Father had sequestered himself away. Furious that yes, Bruce had lost a daughter but _he_ had lost a sister and yet Bruce didn’t seem to care. Didn’t seem to care about any of his children enough to talk to them. Jason was furious because Tim cried when it was late at night and he thought no one could hear him. And every night Jason would sneak into Tim’s room and wrap his arms around his brother holding him until he fell asleep. Jason was furious because Cass spent hours in the gym, pushing her body, refusing to take breaks even when she pushed too far. Until Jason would pry her away from the equipment, water in hand, asking her to go on a walk with him. And Jason was furious because Stephanie hadn’t smiled once since she arrived at the manor, even when he’d let her paint his nails with the bright yellow nail polish she knew he hated.

Jason was holding what was left of his family together and his Father had locked himself in the cave.

Standing in front of the old Grandfather clock Jason stared at the hands, pushing and setting them into place every couple of seconds. And yet the door would not open. Getting frustrated he grabbed the clock and began roughly shaking it. As though he could pull it away from the wall, storm downstairs, and force Bruce to join them. So enraged was he, that he hadn’t even noticed that someone had joined the room until a crisp voice came from behind.

“Master Jason.” Freezing his movements he turned around to come face to face with Alfred, who looked at him unimpressed. “While I understand your frustration I doubt that you will be able to force your way downstairs.” While usually, the butler calmed his anger Jason could not seem to shake it.

“He won’t come up. He hasn’t said a word to anyone, hasn’t told anyone what happened. He just shows up with her body and no explanation and then he hides away because he’s too embarrassed to face us after his own perceived failure.” Alfreds looked melted into understanding, gesturing for Jason to follow him he began to walk away.

“Master Bruce is not handling this the best is he?” An unamused scoff came from Jason as he followed the Butler out of the room. 

“When has he ever? He was a mess after Damian but at least he came out of the fucking cave.” It was a testament to the situation that Alfred did not scold Jason’s language. The two walked back into the kitchen and sitting at the counter he watched the older man begin to prepare the kettle for tea. Just the sight seemed to settle something inside Jason. Before he had died tea with Alfred would be something he always looked forward to after school. The others would be off doing homework or at a club, and it would just be the two of them. Sipping Alfred’s secret blend and talking about whatever book Jason was reading that week. The two were silent for a moment as Alfred poured the drinks, and after handing a mug to Jason he sat down across from him and waited. “I just...He’s not the only one who lost her. We all did, but at least we’re up here. At least we’re trying.” Alfred watched him take a sip of his tea, waiting until Jason put the mug down before responding.

“He was like this after you died too.” Jason looked up in surprise, none of them ever talked about the year he was dead. “He was furious, so angry, angrier than I had ever seen him. And he made so many mistakes. Locked himself away. Miss Rachel had gone down to talk to him, she always did bring out his softer side. But something happened and he cracked. Slapped her. He regretted it instantly of course but Master Damian was furious. He took Miss Rachel and Cassandra to the Penthouse and they stayed with him for a few months. Master Timothy came back from school to help him. And the whole time Master Bruce just pushed people away. He blamed himself for your death and hated himself for lashing out at Rachel.” _How did I not know any of this_ . Jason wondered. _How could this have happened and I had no clue?_

“What changed?” Alfred took a sip of his tea, eyes unfocused as though he was looking back in time.

“The Joker escaped and kidnapped Master Timothy. Master Damian found them and beat the Joker half to death. Would have killed him if Batman hadn’t stopped him. After that Master Damian just screamed at him. For what he’d done to Miss Rachel, for how he was acting. Then he started crying.” Jason’s eyebrows shot upwards in surprise and Alfred smiled softly. “Your brother was very similar to Master Bruce, he didn’t always show his emotions but he cared about you and your siblings deeply. He grieved you, Master Jason. They all did.” Jason looked away in discomfort. He had been so angry when he first came back. Angry at Bruce and the others, certain that they were better off with him gone. Over the years he had realized that wasn’t the case, but still, it was strange to hear. 

“We don’t blame him, for Rachel... we know it wasn’t…” Alfred smiled again and placed his hand on top of Jason’s wrist.

“I know Master Jason, but he blames himself. Give him time. I am not saying I agree with how he is reacting but we can’t force him to come up. Only he can make that decision.” Alfred looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, he just patted his hand on Jason’s arm a few times before pulling back and taking a long sip of tea.

The days after their conversation seemed to move in fast forward and suddenly Jason was standing in front of the mirror in a suit and tie that Alfred had ironed for him. Pulling uncomfortably at the cuffs he looked at his reflection in disgust, counting down the minutes until he could take it off. A small knock came from the door and looking up he saw Diana step in. Black glasses perched precariously on her nose and somber black gown falling to her knees. Jason smiled at the woman and didn’t hesitate when she opened her arms out for a hug.

“Jason.” Burrowing his head into her black hair he felt himself melt into the embrace. His older brothers and Father had always gotten along with the Kents, and Rachel had been pretty close to the speedsters. But Diana was Jasons Mom in every sense except blood. “How are you doing sweetheart?” Pulling back he felt Diana brush her hand across his cheek pushing his hair out of his face.

“I’m alright.” She gave him a look like she didn’t believe him and rolling his eyes Jason thought about the question. _How am I?_ And at that moment he realized he didn’t know. Somehow he made it through the whole week without thinking about his sister. He had been so concerned about everyone else that he hadn’t actually thought about how he felt. Furrowing his brow he looked back at Diana.

“I really don’t know how I am.” Pulling him back into a hug, Jason looked over Diana’s shoulder and saw Clark at the doorway smiling softly at him. Straightening up, he felt Diana let go and turn to face Clark.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I think it’s time.” Looking at his watch he saw that it was almost 12. They were supposed to start hours ago but had waited on Bruce. Jason hadn’t wanted to mingle with the other heroes and had decided to sequester himself in his room until he was summoned.

“Bruce?” Clark took a heavy sigh and shook his head no. A ball of anger settled into his stomach but was quelled just as quickly by Diana placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go then.”

The Manor ground was beautiful, as it always was in early spring. Alfred’s talents weren’t just limited to the house, throngs of lilies and tulips lead the way to the private cemetery. When he had first come to the manor at age 11 the cemetery scared him. It unnerved him that corpses laid so close to where he slept. But after Rachel had arrived, and her parents had been buried there, it almost became a place of sanctuary. Every once in a while he would come down when he knew no one would be there, and just talk. He never knew John and Mary Grayson but their spirits knew all his secrets.

The cemetery was packed. Clark and Diana had come down with Jason, but the rest of his family were already there. Tim spoke softly to Kon, Lois, and Jon who were clustered in the back. Stephanie and Cass spoke to the arrow clan, smiling down at little Lian who ran around giggling. Too young to understand what was going on. The rest of the League had splintered into little groups and quietly murmured pleasantries, faces drawn in grief. It seemed as though every hero Jason had ever met, and a few he hadn’t, had shown up. 

The voices quieted when Clark moved to the grave, Jason walked behind him and he could see the rest of his siblings move forward. Eventually, they were all at the front and Jason had a good view of the plot. A dark blue casket was raised above the hole, _blues Rachel’s favorite color_ , he thought to himself. Most people thought it was red because of the Robin costume. But Jason knew it was blue. She went through a phase when she turned nine where she only wanted to eat blue things. Blueberries, blue corn chips, blue slushies from 7/11 (though Alfred didn’t know about that). The phase only ended when Tim gave her blue cheese and she threw up all over the dining room table.

Clark began to speak, making excuses for Bruce, talking about Rachel. But Jason paid no mind to him. He could only stare at the dark blue casket. Rachel was in there. Rachel was in there and Jason would never see her again. Rachel was in that box and the last time he saw her was when she was hanging in Bruce’s arms. And the last time he saw her _alive_ was weeks ago.

She and Bruce had been arguing, it seemed like that’s all they ever did anymore. Damian’s death had flipped something inside her and she was always so angry. She and Bruce would spend hours screaming at one another until finally, one would storm away. Jason had picked her up after a particularly nasty fight, driving around and ending up just outside of Gotham at an old bridge that hardly anyone used anymore. Getting out of the car they climbed over the rail and sat on the ledge, feet dangling in the air.

“I don’t know what to do anymore Jason. He’s not listening to me, he’s treating me like a child. We’ve worked together for years and all of a sudden it’s like he doesn’t trust me.” Nodding, Jason looked out at the water below. Perhaps out of all of them, he knew best what it was like to be on the outs with Bruce.

“He’s a bit of an asshole isn’t he?” That startled a laugh out of his sister and grinning her looked over to her. “I’m not trying to make excuses for him. He can be an absolute dick when he wants to but… He’s never been good at the whole “emotions” thing, none of us have, except maybe you. I think he’s just afraid.” Rachel stared forward, thinking about something.

“Damian told me once he wasn’t afraid to die that he was only afraid of leaving us.” _Leaving you more like it_ , Jason thought but kept it to himself. Swinging his arm over her shoulder he pulled his sister close to his side.

“It’ll work out Rach, just wait and see.”

Hearing the sound of shuffling feet Jason rapidly blinked his eyes banishing the memory as he took in the sight of the emptying graveyard. At some point, Clark had finished speaking and the casket had been lowered into the ground. His family remained in the back crying quietly, hanging onto one another, leaving Jason alone. With the casket lowered he could see a beautiful glazed gray stone.

**_Rachel Grayson_ **

**_Beloved Daughter, Sister, and Friend_ **

**_March 20th, 2003 - March 13th, 2020_ **

**_To be kind, to be righteous, and to love. These are the greatest pleasures in life and I believe I have been lucky enough to do them all._ **

  
And all of a sudden it was like a weight dropped onto Jason. All of a sudden came an understanding, a clarity, that had been absent all week. Because somehow, by some cruel twist of fate, Rachel’s funeral had landed on her eighteenth birthday.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He and the others had spent weeks planning her birthday. Determined that she would have a good time despite Damian not being there. Had planned to celebrate her adulthood with balloons and streamers, and firecrackers, and other things that Jason hated but Rachel loved. But instead, his sister never made it past seventeen. Instead, he was standing in the middle of a cemetery on an unfairly beautiful spring day.

Rachel was dead. His little sister was dead, and he was here and how was that fair? His little sister was laying in a grave, his little sister who was claustrophobic and hated tight small spaces. Who was better than Jason, better than the best of them. And suddenly he realized why the Syndicate took her. Because Jason could feel himself breaking, he couldn’t imagine how he could be expected to fight crime to be a hero. Not now. Not with her gone. Desperately looking around he realized his siblings were still clinging onto one another, unaware of his own plight. 

And never had Jason felt so alone.

Tears began falling from his face and he just stood there, silent and crying. Wondering how the universe could be so cruel to leave him here alone. 

But just as suddenly as the tears began to fall, a pair of warm arms pulled Jason into their embrace. And on instinct, Jason fell into them. Letting out a painful whimper, grief spilling over at the touch.

“Oh, my dear boy.” Alfred whispered running a hand through Jason’s hair. And Jason just cried in response. He had not done so for the whole week. The whole time his sister had been dead he remained strong, but this was too much. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

  
  


************************************************************************

  
  


Rachel wasn’t sure what she thought about Agent 1. 

After he had shown up to her motel room he had said very little to her the entire trip to Spyral. Wherever Spyral was. The plane they had been on was private, the dark SUV’s waiting for them at the end of their trip were non-descript. The fact that the driver’s side seat was on the right gave away that they were in the UK. But frankly, Rachel wasn’t interested enough to ask where exactly they were going. Besides Agent 1 had only spoken twice, and once was to give her his name. 

All in all, Rachel felt off-kilter, she didn’t know where she stood with Agent 1, didn’t know what to expect from Spyral. And not for the first time since leaving the cave Rachel couldn’t help but wonder if Bruce had sent her on some suicide mission. Couldn’t help but wonder if Bruce sent her away simply because he couldn’t stand to look at her.

The car slowed before coming to a stop. Agent 1 got out from the driver’s side and without hesitating Rachel opened her own door and came face to face with a school. The sign at the gate read ‘St. Hadrian’s Finishing School for Girls’ and on the other side was a large ground with several buildings sprawling across it. The Tudor Gothic architecture reminded Rachel of the manor, which sent a small sting through her chest. Shooing that thought away, she closed the door and followed Agent 1. Who led her across the ground into a small side building.

The building itself had to be hundreds of years old, but the inside had clearly been updated. The two walked down a winding staircase for a moment or two, going deeper under the ground. Stopping in front of the door Agent 1 scanned his hand on a small metal plate to the side, once open Rachel was ushered into the room.

The room was wide and bathed in a hazy red light. A large computer sat at one end, and tabletops and crates filled the rest of the space. A lone door sat across from her on the other side of the room. The tables held computers, and pieces of tech, along with armor and weapons that had been taken apart. It was clear that this was usually used as a workshop, but tonight it sat empty. Agent 1 led her over to the computer, and as they approach the chair turned around.

A young black woman sat, back straight. Her hair was beautiful, curly, and falling to her shoulders with a bounce. Spyral earrings dangled from her ears and she wore a tight-fitting black shirt with a white cross on it. She looked serious, like the type of woman who was in charge, but Rachel doubted she was the mastermind behind Spyral. The woman stood and held out her hand.

“Rachel Grayson it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Matron.” Rachel raised an eyebrow and took Matron’s hand.

“Matron? That’s certainly unique.” The woman smiled softly which surprised Rachel further and gestured her to take a seat.

“My birth name is Helena Bertinelli but everyone at Spyral goes by a different name.” Rachel sat down nodding.

“Makes sense. Spyral, I assume that’s your … employer?” Rachel looked over at Agent 1 for the answer but it was Matron who spoke. _Yup, she’s definitely in charge_.

“Your assumption would be correct. Spyral is a covert operations agency. We were founded by the UN back in the cold war. But our purpose has evolved from stopping terrorists and assassins and has morphed into something a little more refined.” Matron smirked at her word choice and Rachel squashed down her discomfort. 

“Refined?” Turning around in her chair, she typed something onto the computer. Several images filled the screen, and Rachel felt her stomach drop.

At the top left was a picture of her as Robin, next to a picture of her in her civies. Next to that was a picture of Bruce beside a picture of Batman. The whole screen was filled with her siblings both in and out of uniform. Matron turned back around, and Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat. She had expected to see her face but not her family’s. The sight left her twitching.

“So, I take it you saw the broadcast?” A flicker of confusion flashed across Matron’s face before her mask was back in place.

“We received your names from Lex Luthor. He informed us about your family’s proclivity for heroics.” Rachel nodded, that at least made sense. She wondered if Bruce struck a deal with him, or if he ratted them out simply for his own good. _Probably the latter_.

“Do you work with Lex Luthor often?” The venom in her voice was obvious and this time it was Agent 1 who spoke.

“Not usually, I am sure you are aware that his public persona is involved in many different political organizations. He had a few deals with Spyral in the past but usually stays away.” Matron cut in.

“We are aware of your death by his hands, please be assured that if you join our team you will not interact with him.” Rachel was taken slightly aback.

“Join your team? You’re offering me a job as a spy?” Matron reached behind her and grabbed a black binder, placing it in Rachel’s hands she began. 

“We’d like you to join our task force for the Paragon Protocol, following its success you would stay on as a field agent.” Rachel ran a hand over the cover of the binder and gently opened it in her hands. The first page was a picture of Aquaman, stats on the side described his powers, blood type, and medical information. His eyes had been highlighted. On the other side was a picture of an assassin with the alias The Old Gun. His eyes had also been highlighted and a note on the side provided the same DNA sequences belonging to Aquaman. Rachel looked back up to see Matron staring at her.

“I don’t understand?” 

“Have you ever heard of the Gods Garden?” Rachel nodded.

“Loosely, I don’t work for the League but I’ve heard it come up before. They’re a refuge, they take any dangerous experiments and inventions that people have created and store it in Outerspace away from mankind.” Matron nodded, pleased by her answers.

“You’re correct. Why that matters is because they were harvesting five body parts that all had the DNA of powerful Leaguers. The eyes of Aquaman, Implants from Cyborg, the stomach of the Flash, the Heart of an Amazon, and the skin of a Lantern. All of which can be controlled by the Paragon hard-drive. Together the parts can create the Paragon Android. One of the Gardens leaders broke into the refuge, stole the parts, and sold them.” Realization hit Rachel like a ton of bricks, she schooled her face into a calm mask.

“You want to collect them. Kill the individuals who currently have them and bring them together yourselves. But why?” Matron paused as though carefully considering her answer.

“Spyral is concerned by the existence of masked heroes. Without an identity, they have no oversight, no failsafe. The Crime Syndicate wanted you dead so that the League would become evil. With Paragon we can unmask the league which allows for some accountability. And God forbid they turn evil we’ll have a tool to bring them down. A tool to protect Earth from them.” _A tool to kill the league, not great_. Matron went on, “God’s Garden and the Gardner only care about keeping things away from mankind, only see the danger humans possess. They do not have cautiousness when concerning the League. We do.” 

Rachel sat in her chair silent for a moment. The scary thing is, she could see where they were coming from. More than once something had taken control of a leaguer causing the others to fight them. And the Syndicate proved that the league was not infallible. But still the thought of creating a creature so powerful it could unmask and take on the league sent shivers done Rachel’s spine. Matron sat patiently as Rachel thought it all over.

“And my part in this would be?”

“Harvesting the organs back from those who stole them.” _I.E. killing people and stealing their body parts_. Her mind drifted over to Bruce, what would he say if he knew that he had signed her up to break is only rule? Shaking her head to dismiss that thought, Rachel looked back down at the binder in her hands. Wondering if she could really do this.

“Why me? What you’re asking… I’m not saying no, but why do you trust me to do this? I mean I was a hero, why ask me?”

“Because I told them to.” Rachel’s head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice and her focus went to the new man in the room. He was leaning against the door Rachel had noticed was closed earlier. The man wore a red jumper with a white-collar underneath. He had short blonde hair and black glasses were perched on his nose. But the most striking thing was that where his face should be, instead there was a large spiral hiding all his facial features. Both Matron and Agent 1 stood at his entrance, and slowly Rachel joined them. Watching as the man came towards her, holding out his arm for a handshake.

“Mister Minos.” He said, or at least Rachel assumed he had, as the sound came from his head despite the fact he had no visible lips. Taking his hand she shook it once firmly.

“I’m guessing you’re the real boss? He laughed lightly, guiding her into the room he had been in previously. The room was a fairly normal office. There was a large wooden desk with two dark plush chairs in front of it for guests. Papers were strewn across the top, and a half-finished coffee mug sat at the edge forgotten. The strangest thing was a large red and black spiral that filled the wall and seemed to move slowly behind him. Mister Minos pulled her attention away from it by leading her to one of the plush chairs. He waited until she was seated before walking around the desk to his own seat.

“Rachel Grayson, you’re a very interesting woman. Parents murdered at the age of 8, vigilante by the age of 9. Targeted by a Crime Syndicate from the multiverse solely because of the potential power you have, just days before you even turned eighteen. Happy Birthday by the way.” With a jolt, Rachel realized that she had turned eighteen without her even realizing it. Minos continued. “Would you like to know why I want you a part of this team?” Clicking a button the spiral wall became a screen. “It’s because of this.”

On the screen was fuzzy camera footage of the Batcave from the day before. She and Bruce were fighting. Though from this perspective Rachel saw things more clearly. They weren’t fighting, Bruce was pulverizing her. Distantly she heard the sound of their voices, of Bruce’s plan, of her agreement. And a cold shiver flew down her spine because Rachel realized that Minos knew she was sent here to spy on them. _Is this part of Bruce’s plan? What happens now?_ The screen clicked off and for a moment Rachel was pulled back into the spirals, deep in thought. Minos spoke again.

“I don’t show this to frighten you. I show this to let you know that I know you were sent here, and I know you didn’t want to be. I show you this because you should be furious. The betrayal, the hurt, the injustice of it. You die for them and this is how they treat you?” Rachel shook her head, rubbing her hand against her temple.

“It wasn’t like that-”

“No? Then why did he lie to you?” 

“He didn’t.”

“You weren’t unmasked on live T.V. Rachel.” Rachel froze at his words, disbelief flooding her. “The feed cut off before they took off your mask before they even said your name. No one knows who Robin is. So why did your Father lie to you about it?”

Bruce lied to her, Bruce manipulated her into accepting this mission. Bruce told her that her siblings were in danger because of her, and it had all been a _lie._ Minos seemed to sense her distress and reaching out he held her hand tightly.

“Why do they get to control us? Why should _they_ get to play God? Spyral helps people Rachel. _Protects_ people. The world deserves to know who these self-proclaimed gods are, should feel secure in the knowledge that if they defect there is a fail-safe. Sometimes you will have to kill, I won’t lie to you. But this isn’t murder. We are a government-sanctioned organization, just like the CIA, the FBI. What we do is protect the innocent and silence the guilty.” She knew that this was classic manipulation, but a part of her couldn’t help but agree with Minos words. After a moment of reading her face, Minos released her wrist and leaned back into his chair.

“What did that life give you Rachel? Death...grief? No vengeance, _no justice_. All I ask is that you think about it. You can play double agent if you like, tell Batman what you’re doing for us. Spyral has nothing to hide. But while you do, think about who the real villains are.” Hearing the dismissal Rachel raised from her chair and began to exit the room, stopping just before she opened the door. 

“I’ll think about it.” Pushing the door open she walked back into the main room and saw Agent 1 waiting for her by the staircase.

“I am to show you to your quarters.” Rachel nodded and began to follow him up the stairs, head swimming with what she just learned. Bruce could be cold, could be mean, but never once did Rachel think he would lie to her. Part of her was filled with relief knowing that her identity was safe, but another part couldn’t help but hate Bruce for putting her in this position. And another, even smaller part of her, couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Minos was right. The Crime Syndicate seemed certain the League would fall from their moral high ground. Why shouldn’t there be a system to keep them accountable. Checks and Balances. Looking over at Agent 1 she couldn’t help but wonder how he got here. If he was like her? But that question seemed too personal for a man she just met.

“Can I ask you something?” Rachel kept her voice low as they made their way into another building with wooden doors spaced along the hall sporadically.

“You may.” Agent 1’s voice was equally low and together they climbed up a new shorter set of stairs.

“You know that I was sent here to spy on Spyral.” it wasn’t a question but he nodded anyway. “Do you...do you buy into Minos’s spiel? Do you believe that you’re doing the right thing here?” They stopped outside of a plain wooden door that Rachel assumed would lead to her room. Agent 1 seemed to be thinking, taking her question with a seriousness that she appreciated.

“I have worked for many bad people. It’s not something I am proud of but it is true. Spyral does bad things sometimes, but it’s in the pursuit of good, of better. I’d much rather do a few bad things to ensure the protection of millions. Then do nothing and be complacent in our own downfall.” Rachel was taken back by the depth of his words. Sending a small smile up to him she opened her door.

“Thank you Agent 1, I will ruminate on that.” Agent 1 paused for a moment before lifting his lips in a hesitant smile. Stepping inside she was about to close the door shut behind her when his voice stopped her.

“Tiger... That is my name. You will have to call me Agent 1 on missions but here...you can call me Tiger.” Rachel felt a grin stretch across her face as she looked back at the man who now looked slightly sheepish.

“Like Tony the Tiger?” A look of confusion came onto his face at the question.

“I do not believe I know who that is?” Her grin morphed into a smirk.

“You should look him up, _he’s great_.”

************************************************************************

Clawing forward he let out a deep gasping breath as his head breached the surface of the water. Lungs sucking in deep painful heaps of air. Seeing the water’s edge he swam quickly over and pulled himself up onto the ledge. His weak body collapsing almost immediately on the ground. An unnatural green glow illuminated the room and he watched as a pair of long legs made its way over to him. He could feel some sort of fabric being draped across his back as the arms reached down to pick him up. He felt the figure take on some of his weight as he scrambled to get his feet under him. The two began walking away from the pond.

“You brought me back?” Damian asked, voice cracking from unuse. 

“Your Mother was foolish to let you die.” Ra’s responded, no warmth in his voice as he helped carry Damian inside. Damian tried not to think about his Mother sentencing Heretic to kill him, tried not to feel the sting of her betrayal.

“I don’t feel any different.” Ra’s scoffed.

“Of course, the Lazarus Pit runs through your blood. It is loyal to the Al Ghuls.” Damian nodded, his Mother had told him this often as a child, but after Jason had come back he learned to grow weary of the possible consequences of the pit.

“How long?” Ra’s Al Ghul huffed, his grandfather had never liked when people asked many questions, but Damian needed to know.

“Three months. It took time to get your body. Your Father did not trust me to bring you back. I respect his choices usually but you are blood. I would not allow you to remain dead, not because of my daughter’s disgraceful actions.” Damian longed to ask about his Mother, where she was, what happened to her. But he knew his grandfather well enough that he most likely could only get away with one more question.

“And my family, are they alright?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.  
> Thank you everyone for your kind comments, I’m so glad you guys have been enjoying this story! This chapter is a little dark so buckle in cool cats!
> 
> Damian (Shadow): 28  
> Tim (Knight, previously Batboy): 24  
> Stephanie (Spoiler): 22  
> Cass (Black Bat): 22  
> Jason (Red Hood, previously Batboy): 21  
> Rachel (Robin): 18

Chaos. Everything around him was in chaos.

As the man he was fighting dropped to the floor unconscious, Damian took in the sights and sounds around him. He had never been in a war, but this is certainly how he imagined it would be. His family was spread around the room each member preoccupied with their own fight. The clashing sound of sword on eskrima sticks creating a strange soundtrack to what he was seeing.

Cassandra and Stephanie were the closest to him on his left. Standing back to back the two women fought viciously against a never-ending group of assassins. It seemed every time they dispatched a league member two would take their place. He saw Jason slowly make his way over to the girls to assist them and reassured that they would be okay for the time being he searched out the others. Tim was to his right, at some point his brother had lost his bo-staff and had managed to get ahold of a katana. His strikes were non-lethal as he cut through his own group of adversaries.

This was all his fault. His family was fighting for their lives against the formidable league because of him. His mother had returned to Gotham a week ago, determined to finally get Damian to join the League of Assassins. He had just turned 28 and she felt that his disobedience had gone on long enough. Of course, he refused. His Mother however would never accept “no”, would never respect his choice if it didn’t align with what she wanted.

Seeking her out, he found her in the middle of the room fighting with Batman. The two were blind to everything around them, their focus completely on themselves. Damian was struck by a deep sadness at the image.

This had never been about him. His mother wanted him to join her side, not because she loved Damian, but because he chose Batman over her. His parents never truly cared about who he was, what he wanted. Ever since he had been introduced to his Father at the age of 10 all he had ever been to them was a pawn. A way to entice and anger the other, a way to control one another. Bruce at least had tried, had begrudgingly loved him, that was more then Talia had ever done. But more importantly, he had given Damian a family.

He had been an angry child. He could feel Talia’s disinterest, could sense Bruce’s resentment. He tried for years to seem useful to either one of them. They would never love him, but perhaps they could value him. And then Bruce adopted Tim, and Damian was furious. Furious because his Father couldn’t be bothered to love him, but could give affection to a near stranger. The first few years with just him and Tim had been difficult, wrought with anger and dislike on both sides. Then Jason arrived and Damian had been jealous of the easy relationship he had with Tim. Jealous because once again it became obvious that Bruce was a capable Father to everyone but him. However, after the arrival of Rachel and Cass something shifted.

Cass had been so much like Damian at first. Her background, her anger, it was familiar and Damian found he understood her in ways that he hadn’t his brothers. And Rachel had quickly wormed her way into his heart. The young girl had been so full of joy and love despite the horror she had been through. She had been patient and kind to Damian in ways he hadn’t deserved. And in turn, he had felt overwhelmingly protective of her. As the years went on he found it easier to connect to all his siblings. He and Tim had reconciled their differences and had begun to truly care for one another (though they would never admit it out loud).

His Mother and Father hadn’t molded Damian into who he was today. They didn’t control them like they thought they did. No. His siblings were why he stayed in Gotham, choose to be good. And that made watching them fight assassins on his behalf even more awful. They were fighting for their lives and it was all Damian’s fault.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his clone Heteric move towards him and he braced himself for the attack when a strangled cry of pain distracted him. He saw Tim laying on the ground face contorted in pain, clutching his bleeding shoulder. Rachel stood protectively in front of him, eskrima sticks drawn. She must have felt his gaze on her because she turned to look at him, eyes growing in horror at whatever she saw.

“DAMIAN!” A sharp blade impaled him from the back and suddenly the world was silent. The blade was long, stretching from the center of his upper chest to just above his bellybutton. Damian looked down at it bewildered, shocked at the sight. “NO!” He looked back up at Rachel who looked terrified as she made her way to him. He hated that look on her face. He wants to say something, anything to reassure her. But the blades pulled out of his back and a guttural choking sound comes out of his mouth instead. Knees buckling someone catches him before he can hit the ground. The world is still silent and with a shock, Damian realizes the battle has stopped.

“No, no, no, no, no.” Rachel’s face appeared before him, and though she is wearing a mask tears slip underneath its edges. His own eyes feel heavy and with great effort, he attempts to keep them open. “Dami please, it’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay. You just have to stay awake.”.

He’s dying. There is no question about it, and for a moment Damian is relieved. Relieved because his siblings will be safe. Relieved because if he was dead his Mother wouldn’t have a reason to come to Gotham. To attack his family.

His eyes finally get too heavy and they close on their own accord. Distantly he can hear his siblings crying, talking to him. But he can no longer piece together what they’re saying. The arms around him tighten and he feels safe. Feels loved.

Then finally, he feels nothing.

**“Damian.”**

His eyes snap open at the sound of his Grandfathers voice. The sight of the inside of a plane replacing the memory he had been dreaming about. Normally Damian wouldn’t dare sleep in Ra’s Al Ghuls presence but the pit had drained his energy and he was still attempting to fight off the fatigue. Ra’s was staring at him impatiently and instinctually Damian felt himself sit up straighter in his seat.

“Come Damian, we have arrived.”

Following him out of the plane, Damian is met with the sight of the Gotham skyline and a wave of comfort hits him. When he first arrived in the city at the age of 10 Damian had hated Gotham. Hated the cold and wet foggy weather, the dark gray buildings, the never-ending noise of city life. But after years of fighting in its defense, Gotham had wormed its way into his heart. Though he would never love it as his Father did, it was still his home.

A black SUV sat on the terminal and he followed his Grandfather inside. Anxious to return to his family.

“Your father and his children will meet us at the top of Wayne Tower in a half an hour. He was reluctant to meet but I stressed the importance... I did not tell him that you are alive.” Damian frowned.

“Why?” Ra’s wrinkled his nose at the question but answered regardless.

“Some things should be spoken about in person.” Ra’s paused as though contemplating if he should continue. “Batman has been underground for the last three weeks. No one has spoken to him, no one has seen him or his clan…. Certain rumors have been flying about.”

“Rumors?” Ra’s looked over at Damian but instead of annoyance, his Grandfather looked hesitant to continue.

“As I said, some things should be spoken about in person.” When it was clear Ra’s wouldn’t elaborate Damian turned his gaze from the man and looked out the moving car window. The two were silent the rest of the way to the tower.

Damian had traveled to Wayne Tower many times over the last few years. As a Wayne, he walked in through the front door to visit Wayne Industries. As Shadow, he grappled onto the roof. The League chose neither method and instead used a rarely visited side entrance with stairs leading to the top. When they got to the roof Ra’s shooed him away and Damian hide between several League members, hood drawn. They waited for a moment but as soon as the clock landed on their agreed time, the tale tail sound of grappling hooks hit the roof’s edge. One by one his family climbed over. Batman immediately headed towards Ra’s as Knight and Red Hood flanked his right and left sides. BlackBat and Spoiler remained at the edge watching Ra’s assassins warily.

“This is not a good time.” The sound of his Father’s voice both relaxed and frazzled Damian. There was something in it, some strain that didn’t quite sit right with him. Ra’s picked up on it as well and bowed his head respectfully.

“I had hoped the rumors weren’t true. I am saddened to hear about your loss. I assure you I would not have come had it not been for an urgent matter.” _Loss? What was lost?_ “It’s concerning my Grandson.” Damian noticed his family tense at the words and saw Jason clench his fists tightly. Tim placed a calming hand on his shoulder and looked up at Ra’s.

“What about Damian?” Ra’s turned to look at where he was standing and Damian knew it was time. With a deep breath he passed through his Grandfather’s followers and lowered his hood. He heard a gasp come from Stephanie but kept his eyes on his Father and Brothers.

“Hello.” A large mass launched itself at him and his body tensed at the impact. Strong arms wrapped around him and he felt himself being pulled into Tim’s hold. The younger man’s head landing just below Damian’s own. Damian’s own arms reached up and he tightly hugged him back. “Hello Drake.” His brother laughed at the greeting, sounding half hysterical.

“Hey Demon Spawn.”

“ **What did you do.** ” Damian looked up at his Father’s sharp words, but the man wasn’t looking at him he was glaring at Ra’s.

“The power of Lazareous flows through the Al Ghul bloodline. Trust that his resurrection was successful and without adverse effect.” Batman was about to speak but Jason moved in front of him, his own eyes were locked on Damian. His face was drawn in as he cautiously looked over him.

“You’re back but are you… did the pit?” Releasing his hold on Timothy Damian took a step towards his other Brother.

“I am alright. Grandfather brought me back nearly two weeks ago and I have not suffered from any anomalies.” A loud whoop came from across the roof and Damian turned around just in time to be tackled to the ground by Spoiler. Purple filled his vision as the young woman latched onto him. Schooling his face to hide his budding small, Damian gently pushed her off of him and sat up.

“Watch it Fatgirl. You might just suffocate me to death and then where would we be?” Though he couldn’t see her face he could tell Stephanie was grinning, reaching out she ruffled his hair laughing at his disgruntled look.

“You love it Dames don’t lie. You missed us just as much as we missed you.” Rolling his eyes he felt his lips quirk as he stood, reaching down to help her back up. Cassandra had walked over to them during their spill and Damian waited patiently as she looked him over. Seemingly pleased with what she found she pulled him into a small hug of her own before releasing him and ruffling his hair as well.

“I have missed you brother.” Damian felt warmth spread across his chest and allowed a small fond smile to work its way onto his face.

“I have missed you as well Cassandra.” Looking back up he noticed Jason still stood away watching him warily, not the Damian could blame him. He knew his brother’s experience with the pit had been a violent one. Slowly moving forward he placed his hand on Jason’s shoulder and squeezed tightly.

“I assure you Todd, I am well. I would not have returned if I had not been in full possession of my faculties.” His brother still looked hesitant but he smiled softly and leaned into Damian’s hand. He didn’t hug him, but he did place his own gloved hand on top of Damian’s.

“I’m glad your back.” The words were honest and true but held a weight to them that Damian found worrying. Something was wrong. His father was still talking quietly to Ra’s, his full attention turned on the man, no doubt trying to get all the information he could. Cass, Tim, and Steph stood near him and Jason. They looked at him in relief, in joy, but a lingering grief still remained on their faces. It was then Damian realized his sister was missing. Looking around the roof for a flash of red and gold he grew worried when there was no sign on Robin anywhere.

“Where is Grayson?”

All sound ceased and Damian felt his stomach drop. Jason took a deep breath and turned his gaze away from him. As though he didn’t want to look at him when he said his next words.

_“She’s gone.”_

They told him everything. How for months after his death she and Bruce spent every day screaming at one another. Grief churning into hatred into spite. How his once joyful little sister became withdrawn, angry at everything and everyone. How eventually the Syndicate came, gunning for the strongest hero. How she had been left defenseless because no one had expected it to be her. _He would have known, he knew just how valuable Rachel was. Just how loved she was._ They told him how just two weeks ago she was being put in the ground at the very moment Damian was being resurrected.

They told him everything. Everything except how she died. Only his Father knew that and he spoke to no one. Had only left the cave today because of Ra’s, but had sequestered himself away from his family. Silent in his own grief.

And Damian knew instantly, had he been alive none of this would have happened.

At some point, he and his family made their way back to the Manor. Ra’s disappearing without another word. His duty was done. When they arrived at the cave Damian was lead to the med bay. Test were run, blood was drawn, and he sat has his Father poked and prodded him. Making sure that he truly was back in one piece. His siblings stood around the bed, their relief obvious but marred by grief that Damian now shared. Alfred assisted Bruce. The old man’s gentle touches made him feel safe, and whenever he caught his eye Alfred would smile. So incredibly grateful that Damian was alive.

When he had first been brought to the manor as a child it had been so empty. His father had stayed away, buried under his own issues. And Damian had been so very angry all the time. At first, he had hated Alfred, hated that he had his Fathers ear. But Alfred was patient, understood him. And never tried to dismiss Damian’s anger, never wrote him off as a disgruntled maladjusted child as his Father had in those early days. And in turn, he had earned Damian’s utmost respect, and eventually his love.

Damian was so grateful the rest of his family was there because with every minute he spent longer in his father’s presence the angrier he got. It wasn’t the silence that bothered him, it wasn’t the knowledge that he shut himself away after Rachel’s death. It was the fact that he hadn’t looked Damian in the eyes once since his return. He had looked at him before his argument with Ra’s, he had of course checked Damian over. But he never saw him. A part of Damian wondered if it was guilt. If he felt he held the blame for Rachel’s death and couldn’t look at him because of it. But a darker part of him wondered if it was because he wasn’t happy Damian was alive. Didn’t want Damian back. And that thought hurt more than the sword impaling him had.

Once he had gotten what he needed Bruce left that portion of the cave, no doubt going to the Batcomputer to analyze his blood. Alfred too went away, stating that he would return with some hot tea and hot chocolate. He noticed his siblings looking at one another, having a silent conversation without him. But he was too in shock to interact. Eventually, their conversation concluded and Jason and Tim left as well.

Stephanie hopped up on his cot, gently leaning into his side, and for once Damian allowed himself the comfort of another person’s warmth and leaned back into her. Cass sat down in a chair next to the bed. Her gaze locked on Damian as she tried to work out what his body was saying. He stared back at her, waiting.

“It isn’t your fault.” Damian scoffed.

“I should have been here.”

“That wouldn’t have changed anything, Bruce was there and he couldn’t…” Cass cut herself off, her own griefing halting her words. Stephanie picked up for her.

“He couldn’t save her Dames. We tried to find her in time, we tried so hard after we found out she had been taken. But it was too late.” Damian felt his anger spark at the words and he pulled himself off the cot away from the girls. Back turned to them, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“He has not said what occurred when he found her. What state she was in. She could have been alive, she could have… I would have been here. I would have been with her before she was taken. I would have protected her.” He couldn’t see Stephanie but he could feel her look of pity on his back.

“You don’t know that.” She was right but he didn’t want to say so. He changed gears instead.

“She and Father were fighting because of me, she was distancing herself because of my death. Perhaps she would have been with you all when the Syndicate came, instead of here alone.” He heard Cass stand from her chair and walk towards him, he still didn’t turn even as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It is not good to think like that. “What if’s” will not change what happened. They will only make you sad.” Damian could hear his Father typing way at the computer, no doubt listening to their conversation but staying silent. Damian felt a sense of hopelessness wash over him.

“What’s the point in me coming back if she’s gone? Perhaps it would have been better had I stayed dead.” The typing halted and he felt a sick satisfaction that he had finally gotten some reaction from his Father. Cass turned him around roughly, her usually calm face drawn in pinched anger.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.” Guilt washed over him instantly which she of course noticed. “This is not fair. I am tired of family dying. Tired of you all leaving again and again. It was not better when you were gone, it was worse. And now she is gone, but you are back and I am happy you are back. We can feel more than one thing at once. Angry, relieved, sad, and happy.” Damian could hear his Father leave the cave at his sister’s words, but he forced his attention back on Cass. Her words striking him.

“We leave, but we also come back. What if she comes back to?” Stephanie grimaced at his words.

“Damian, I know the pit worked out for you but it’s too dangerous. Looked at what it did to Jason. You know Rachel, you know she wouldn’t want that.” His anger came back.

“We don’t know what she’d want because she’s dead.” Stephanie looked at him sadly.

“Not this Damian. She wouldn’t want this.” He disagreed but he knew he wouldn’t be able to change their minds. It was true that Jason had come back different, but his death had been so violent it had marred his recovery. The pits effects are more vicious when the person’s resurrection is lengthy. Jason had been nearly beaten to death and blown up. Because of that his time in the pit had lasted days. If Rachel’s death had been quicker then her exposure to the pit would be shorter. Cass was looking at him warily, trying to decipher what he was thinking.

“How did she die?” Stephanie shook her head a helpless shrug falling from her shoulders.

“We don’t know.” He knew this.

“ _We_ don’t, but Father-”

“He won’t talk about it Dames, he won’t talk to any of us about anything. He just showed up with her body and locked us all out of the cave until her funeral.” He tried not to linger on the thought of Rachel’s funeral, tried not to think about his sister’s limp dead body.

“He was there Brown. And his cowl records everything back to the cave. There would be footage of that night. He wouldn’t delete it, you know he wouldn’t have.” For the same reason he had kept Jason’s distressed and bloodied Batboy costume after his death. To remind himself of how he failed. Stephanie looked unconvinced but Cass looked thoughtful. He directed his attention back on her.

“Cass.” She looked up at her nickname, so rarely spoken by Damian. “I need to see it, I need to know.” The cave was silent, the only noise was the Bats teetering on the ceiling. Finally, she nodded.

“Okay, we will look at the footage.”

************************************************************************

Life at Spyral was...strange. There was no other word for it. Rachel was accustomed to strict schedules. She knew what it was like to spend most of her life training, fighting. But before she had been killed she was living two lives, one as Robin and one has Rachel Grayson.

At Spyral she was only one person. There was nothing to hide, no other persona. Everyone knew who she was and who she had been. Even the girls at the boarding school above Spyrals secret base knew she was a spy. They called her Agent 37 instead of Rachel, but still, they knew who she was. She didn’t have a mask here. And that was both disconcerting and amazing.

The training itself had been fine. Bruce had been a ruthless teacher, had always expected the best from her. Matron was strict but fair. She was impressed by what Rachel knew, and was patient with what she didn’t. When they began working with guns she had taken the time to explain everything to her and had not gotten angry at Rachel’s initial hesitance. It was actually scary how quickly she had gotten comfortable using the weapon.

Jason had taken her to a shooting range before, Bruce had been oblivious to it. Her brother thought she should at least know how they worked since he had taken to carrying them around. The weapons had felt strange in her hands, and she had felt guilt the entire time, her mind only on what Bruce’s reaction would be. Now she did not have that guilt, and she had grown used to carrying the weapon on her person.

Matron was an incredible teacher that was obvious, but Rachel found that she was enjoying her lessons with Tiger the most. The man was hilarious. Or rather, she found how much she could rile him up hilarious. When she had first met Tiger he seemed quiet and awkward, as she got to know him however she realized that wasn’t the case.

He was sharp-tongued, witty, and found Rachel completely unbearable. (which again was hilarious). Perhaps he would like her more if she stopped calling him Tony. The man had apparently looked up the mascot after their initial conversation and was not amused. But he gave as good as he got, often sneaking clever quips under his breath while they were in their lessons, catching Rachel off guard and making her lose concentration.

She had originally thought he was older, nearing Damian’s age, so it came as a shock when she realized he was only two years older than her. She wondered what had happened to cause him to seem so...tired. She wondered how old she looked. She had only just turned eighteen, but there was no doubt that grief and heartache had aged her. Did he see a kindred soul in her, or did he see a child in way over their head?

Rachel felt like she was both.

Her training listens were not just physical. Much of her time was spent catching up on all the information curated by the Paragon task force. She was taught how to harvest the implants, who had bought them, what skills they possessed, and how to bring them down. She was dreading when she’d have to implement those skills. But it seemed as though the time was nearing. Tiger had sent her a message early that morning requesting her presence in the workshop. The only thing on the docket was mission prep.

Making her way down into the underground base, she noticed Mister Minos’ door was open and quiet voices were coming from the room. Tiger sat at one of the worktables to her left and he waved her over when he saw her.

“Morning Tony, what’s shaking?” He grimaced at the nickname but didn’t comment, sliding a tablet over to her.

“Congratulations Agent 37, we’re going on your first mission.” Rachel picked up the tablet and took in the image. A tall slightly overweight man stood in front of a Russian train station. He had a full head of hair that was almost completely gray and a matching goatee that barely hid his double chin. Immediately Rachel knew who he was.

“Ninel Dubov, he purchased the Cyborg implants. We’re going after him?” It was strange to talk about the leaguers in such a casual way but she had gotten used to it over the past few weeks. Tiger nodded and gestured for her to keep swiping on the tablet, which she did.

“We’ve gotten word that he has gotten them surgically embedded into his hands. His status has moved to meta-human and Spyral has deemed him enough of a threat to push forward on harvesting.” _Harvesting_ Rachel hated the word, it reminded her of Scarecrow which in turn reminded her of her family and she really didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole.

“I’ve never fought Cyborg before but I am familiar with his powers, I feel confident that Dubov won’t be an issue.”

“Unfortunately that’s not the problem.” Rachel looked up at Matron who was exiting Minos’s office closing the door behind her.

“Dubov now has the power to shoot energy blasts but the implants have left a dangerous effect on his body. His body’s temperature is influx and rises exponentially when he is angered or nervous. Creating a potential walking human bomb.” Rachel raised her eyebrows, _well this just got more interesting_.

“Which means we don’t want to outright attack him.” Matron smiled.

“Ambush is more of the Bats style.” Tiger took the tablet from her and made a flicking gesture with his hands. The image swiped from the screen onto the worktable in front of her. There were many pictures of Ninel with his hands wrapped around younger women. Matron joined them at the table. “Dubov has a bit of a weak spot for beautiful women.”

“It’s a good thing I just turned eighteen otherwise this would be creepy.” Tiger shot her an annoyed look but Matron continued.

“We need you to lure him away, we have gained access to an old warehouse that has been repurposed into a loft building. If things go south we want him as far away from civilians as possible. Once you arrive you need to neutralize him before he becomes a threat.” Matron pulled out a small pill bottle that held two dusty white pills. She handed it to Rachel who peered at them closely. “I suggest putting this in his drank, he shouldn’t be aware of its effect until it’s too late for him to utilize his implants. Once he’s down Agent 1 will join you and will assist in removing the implants.”

Rachel tried not to think too deeply at the thought of killing someone. She had known she would have to do it at some point at Spyral, but not yet. She turned her attention back on the image of Ninel to distract herself. Sure he was a creepy old man, but he didn’t seem like a villain.

“Why did he get them, the implants?” Matron stared at her for a moment, sensing her discomfort. Grabbing the tablet from Tiger she swiped the screen and new images popped up. There were pictures of women in cages, dirtied and half-dressed, eyes glazed over. Rachel recognized a few girls from then other pictures with Ninel.

“At the risk of sounding cliche he’s a defected KGB Agent. He bought the implants to become meta so that he could run his business a bit more... Forcefully.” The screen turned off and Rachel meet Matron’s eyes. “He’s a human trafficker, not a Saint. Can we trust you on this mission?” Rachel could feel Tiger watching her closer, but her gaze remained on Matron. The images of the women in cages seared in the back of her mind.

“Yes.” Matron maintained eye contact for a moment before nodding, pleased with whatever she saw on Rachel’s face.

“A plane has been prepped for you and Agent 1. You will find all the necessary supplies there. You can get ready on your way.”

************************************************************************

“Being a spy sucks, I quit.” A heavy sigh came through her earpiece before Agent 1’s voice crackled through.

“You can’t quit just because of your costume Agent 37.” Rachel resisted the urge to pull at the skin-tight red dress that was inching its way up her thighs.

“You just say that because you get to wear pants, if you were forced into 6-inch black heels you would quit too.”

“Please just focus Agent 37.” Rolling her eyes Rachel played with the drink in her hand, casually looking around at the club. Ninel was supposed to be arriving any minute, and Rachel was stationed at the edge of the bar. Cementing that she would be the first thing he sees when he walked in. Unfortunately, that meant she was the first thing anyone saw when they walked in. She had to pry three different sets of hands off her ass in the last hour and she was not pleased.

She knew she was somewhat attractive. As she got older a few of the more… persistent older men at Bruce’s galas had dropped enough inappropriate comments to make her realize that. The difference was that one of her siblings always seemed to notice and step in before someone could get handsy. Here, she was supposed to look alluring, irresistible even, and Rachel couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable about it.

“Incoming.” Agent 1’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts and Rachel slowly turned away from the doorway. Waiting for Ninel to notice her, without making it obvious she was waiting. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later a sweaty hand landed on her lower back, and looking up she can face to face with the man. He smiled at her and she smiled back, ignoring how his eyes flickered down to her breast for a moment before coming back up.

“I have been in this club many times but I think I would remember someone as beautiful as you.” Rachel internally rolled her eyes at the line. Russian wasn’t her first language, but she knew enough. Letting her old Romani accent slip into her voice she lifted up her hand to gently shake the one not on her back.

“Damir Kozar.” Ninel raised his eyebrows in surprise and shook her hand gently.

“Russian name but not a Russian girl?” Rachel shrugged gently taking a sip of her drink, letting him watch her before responding.

“I’m visiting family, I moved away from here when I was very young. I’m not a fan of the cold.” The bartender came over to them sliding a drink over to Ninel who took it without looking away from her.

“If it were cold then we’d have to cover up that beautiful body, and no one wants that.” Laughing lightly she shifted into him and took another sip of her drink. _This is going to be a long night_.

The longer she spent in Ninel’s presence the more she disliked him. The man was a pig in every sense of the word. His hands drifted aimlessly across Rachel’s body and he came in close to talk, making his alcohol stanched breath waft into her face. He was crass, he was crude, and it was embarrassingly easy to get him to follow her to the warehouse Spyral had set up. Agent 1 had remained mostly silent in her ear but any time Ninel said something particularly disgusting he would make a noise of disgust.

As soon as they stepped into the fake apartment hallway Ninel was kissing her, hands groping at her endlessly. Forcing a casual laugh she gently pushed him off of her and turned to unlock the door. He followed her, kissing her neck and leaning into her backside with his body. When the two entered the room she turned to face him and allowed him to kiss her for a moment before pulling away and whispering into his ear.

“Take a seat, I’ll make us a drink.” Ninel Dubov was an alcoholic first, womanizer second so nodding he collapsed into an armchair as she made her way to the bar.

Agent 1 had set everything up before they had arrived, the pills sat tucked away next to the ice bucket. Dropping both pills into one glass she waited for them to dissolve before she picked up the glass and turned around. Before she could say anything, however, she felt a small breeze draft across her right cheek and a foot came out of nowhere kicking the glass out of her hand.

“I don’t think so sweetheart.” Rachel sensed another kick coming her way, and flipping backward she moved out of the way before it could land. Righting herself she froze as she took in the new man. _Batman_?

The man wasn’t Bruce but the similarities were uncanny. From the pointed cowl to the heavy black boots the man could have fit right in with the Batfamily. The cowl did not have ears at the top but it did have a similar shape to Bruce’s. What she first thought was a long black cape she realized was instead a heavy leather trench coat. He too had a utility built but instead of a bat symbol, he had what looked like a crescent moon on his chest.

“Who the hell are you?” She had the mindset to hold onto her accent but the words came out in English not Russian. The mysterious man grinned at her and pulled out two eskrima sticks.

“I could ask you the same thing sweetheart. The names Midnighter and this man stole something from my employer. Want to tell me who you work for?”

“What the hell is going on here!” Swearing Rachel looked at Ninel who was staring between the two, eyes and hands glowing red. Distantly Rachel heard Agent 1 say he was on his way. The mysterious man spoke.

“Hate to break it to you Dubov but you’ve been honey potted. Your little friend here was going to kill you. Granted. I’m going to kill you too but at least I’m not going to lie about it.” Rachel felt a vein throbbing in her head in annoyance but could not respond because with a roar Ninel started shooting energy blasts at them. Flipping out of the way she began to dodge them, only to come face to face with Midnighter who struck her in the head sending her crashing to the floor. He raised his arm to swing again but was stopped by Tiger tackling him away from her.

“I’ve got him, deal with Dubov!” Turning her attention back to the man, she noticed his eyes had grown brighter and he was blasting into empty spaces. Blind rage controlled him, and it was clear that he could no longer see them and was just shooting wildly. Running towards him, she ducked under a random blast, and wrapping her legs around his head she used her momentum to throw him to the ground. The heat coming off of him was unbearable and it was clear that time was ticking down to when he would blow. The man in question raged at the attacked and pointed both hands towards her, just missing her as she rolled out of the way.

Smoke began rising from Ninel’s body, and his cry of anger morphed into cries of pain. She could hear Agent 1 and Midnighter going at it across the room, unaware of Ninel’s deteriorating state. A gun sat just outside of her reach, either Tiger or Midnighter must have pulled it out and lost it during their fight. Reaching for it Rachel checked the chamber and seeing that it was full she turned her attention back to Dubov and raised it towards the man. Without thinking about what she was about to do, without thinking about what her family might say, she allowed her training to take over.

Lining her shot up she took a deep even breath, placed her finger over the trigger, and pulled.

A loud bang filled the room and Rachel watched as the bullet hit its mark and Ninel Dubov crumbled to the floor. The red light from the energy fading leaving only blank glassy blue eyes and pale clammy hands.

And Rachel waited.

Waited for something to happen, for guilt to come, for regret to churn in her stomach. But there was nothing. The fighting behind her continued undeterred by the gunshot, and standing up Rachel turned to join Agent 1.

The Midnighter noticed her instantly and a calculating look crossed his face, as though he was working through several scenarios of how this could turn out. Apparently displeased with his odds he pulled away from Tiger and launched himself out the window before either one of them could stop him. Tiger turned away from the window with a sigh. He looked unharmed outside of a budding black eye. Rachel noticed him look from her to the body behind her, a look of surprise coloring his face.

“You shot him?”

“He was getting too hot, if I would have waited any longer he would have exploded.” Her voice didn’t sound defensive but something in it seemed to sit wrong with him. Moving forward he hesitated a moment before placing a hand on her shoulder. Rachel looked up and meet his eyes.

“Are you alright?” _I don’t know_ , she wanted to say. _Why don’t I feel guilty? Will that come? Am I in shock?_ Instead, she just nodded, face blank. Tiger waited for a moment before nodding back. “I will take care of the harvesting, give me a moment.” He left her and Rachel stood staring at the wall in front of her as he got to work. Waiting.

When he came back he took her arm and lead her outside to the roof. Another team would come for cleanup, Rachel had done her job. A plane was waiting for them and as soon as they entered the door closed and they were in the air, heading back to Spyral.

The ride back was mostly quiet which seemed to bother Tiger. He kept looking at her in concern, as though waiting for Rachel to break down, if she was being truthful she was also waiting for it to happen but it never came. Matron and Minos were waiting for them when they arrived back at base, taking the implants from Tiger as he gave them their debrief. Both seemed please and Minos turned his attention to her.

“You did well today Rachel.” Forcing a smile onto her face she gave him a grateful nod, leaving the room as soon as she was dismissed. Climbing up the stairs she turned towards the dormitory building but was stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder. Looking up she saw Tiger who gave her a small smile and turned her instead towards the lake.

“Let’s talk.” She followed him as they walked to the shore of the lake. It wasn’t a real shore, there was no sand, but the grass was firm and the water stopped a few feet in front of them. Tiger sat down cross-legged and following his lead she looked out onto the water. The night was starting to lighten as dawn came, and it was so very quiet. “Your first kill is always hard.” The words were soft and Rachel turned to look at Tiger who was staring at her with a softness she wasn’t used to. A lump made its way into her throat and she rubbed her face as her eyes started to prickle.

“That’s the problem… It wasn’t hard.” The words felt embarrassing to admit, she felt shame from saying them, but she continued. “He was a bad man, he was a literal bomb and I don’t regret it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that I don’t regret it.” Understanding blossomed across Tigers face causing Rachel to turn from him. “Bruce taught me many things, how to fight, how to save people but he only ever had one rule. Do Not Kill. He changed, he’s so different now then he was when I was younger. Crueler. But he never wavered on that rule. Killing is bad, that’s what he taught me. But now I have to wonder if that’s true. Murder is bad. Killing an innocent is bad but… Dubov is dead and can’t manage to feel any guilt about that.” Tiger was silent for a moment taking in everything Rachel had said.

“Did you tell him, that we know you’re undercover?”

“No.”

“Will you?” Rachel thought about it for a moment.

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not certain he’s the good guy anymore.” And there was the guilt. She didn’t know if she trusted Bruce anymore, didn’t know if she agreed with him anymore. Ever since she became Robin her view of the world had been black and white. The league was good, anyone against them was bad. But Bruce had always worked in gray. She had fooled herself into believing he was perfect, an infallible hero. But he had let her down so many times, had hurt her, and still she just blindly followed him. She didn’t think she could do that anymore. Didn’t think she should.

“I used to hate Spyral, I used to hate everything they stood for, everything they did. I wanted to burn them to the ground.” Rachel looked up at Tiger in surprise but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. His gaze was far-off. “Two years ago my partner Alia was murdered, my old employer told me it had been Spyral but they lied to me. It was them. They killed her to use me.”

“Tiger…”

“I don’t tell you this for pity. I tell you this because I learned then that people change, or maybe they don’t but you realize that they weren’t who you thought they were. When that happens you have a choice. Stay with them out of misplaced loyalty or leave them and figure out who you are outside of their influence.”

The looming shadow of Bruce had followed Rachel wherever she went. He had morphed her into the perfect soldier, molded her family under his own morals. He expected them to fall in line, and if they didn’t then they weren’t welcome. That’s why he and Jason always fought, why he and Damian clashed heads so often. Why she and him had argued so much after Damian’s death. In his mind, free thought was insubordination and that was unacceptable.

“I don’t know what to do.” Tiger finally looked back at her, the same soft smile still on his face.

“You do whatever you think is right.”

Tiger’s advice ran through Rachel’s head, even after the two split and she made her way to her quarters. Jason had always joked that Rachel never argued with Bruce, had called her goldie because she was the only one of their siblings who followed him blindly. Now she couldn’t help but be disgusted by how naive she was. When she arrived in her room a blinking light caught her attention and she noticed her burner phone had a missed call. She and Bruce had agreed to speak once a week at 10:47pm his time and she had missed it last night because of her unexpected mission. Unlocking the phone she found Bruce’s number and hit the call button. Stomach anxious as she waited for him to pick up.

“Birdwatcher, you are late.” His voice was gravelly, he must have just returned home from patrol.

“I know I’m sorry, I had a mission. Spyral has obtained the first Paragon implant, the one with DNA belonging to Cyborg.”

“Oh?”

“I killed someone.” She wasn’t sure why she said it, but she needed Bruce to know. She needed him to reprimand her, needed his disappointment. Needed that constant. There was a pause before he responded.

“Good. Spyral is bound to trust you now.” Rachel felt sick. The mission. It was always about the fucking mission. He doesn’t care that she had to kill someone, doesn’t care that she broke his one rule. Because it’s useful to him for her to be a murderer.

Rachel was wrong Batman’s one rule wasn’t ‘ **Do Not Kill**.’.

It was ‘ **The Mission Comes First** ’. Comes before Rachel, before human life, before anything.

“Birdwatcher, is there anything else?” Her thoughts go to Tiger, telling her to do what she thought was right. To Minos telling her they know she’s undercover, explaining that Spyral isn’t the enemy. To Dubov a gross old man with a bullet in his head. Before landing on Bruce, and how _disappointed_ she was of him.

“No. There’s nothing.”

And then she hung up.

************************************************************************

“ _No. There’s nothing._ ” The call disconnected, leaving Bruce alone in the cave.

He made a mistake. That thought had followed him ever since his fight with Rachel, ever since he sent his daughter on this mission. Pulling his cowl down he buried his head in his hands. Regret washing over him, he had thought this would be easy. Thought that he had made the right decision.

Owlman had told him to keep her hidden, had given him the sedative that would put her in a medically induced coma for a week. He thought that if he sent her away then the Syndicate wouldn’t find her. Wouldn’t take her from him again. And he was so afraid, he had already come so close to losing her.

But this hadn’t been the solution.

Rachel had been forced to kill someone because of him. Damian wished he hadn’t come back because Bruce had lied to all his children. He had let them grieve, and why? Because of his own paranoia.

He was a fool. All his children were suffering and it was his fault.

The worse of it though was that he had hurt Rachel. He hadn’t known what to do, hadn’t known had to convince her that she had to leave. But now he couldn’t believe what he had done. He had sworn after Jason’s death that he would never hurt his children again, had sworn he would not let his anger get the best of him.

**Sometimes Bruce hated Batman.**

Many believed that ‘Bruce Wayne’ was the mask but he prayed that wasn’t true.

Because Batman was cruel and cold, he was analytical. But Bruce cared so much, Bruce was awkward yes, and couldn’t always say what he was feeling. But he felt so much. Batman only thought about the mission and _Bruce_ had to deal with the consequences. Bruce loved his children, he would kill for them no questions asked. Batman would never allow that to happen.

When he was a younger man the cowl had allowed him to differentiate between the two. But now Batman was taking over everything and Bruce couldn’t stop him. The fight with Rachel had shown him that. Batman did what he thought he had to do for the mission and Bruce just watched on. Outside of himself and unable to stop it. Watching in horror as his body beat his daughter, unable to intercede even though he wanted to.

Suddenly he knew how Dr. Jekyll felt. Trapped as Mr. Hyde unleashed the evil inside.

And sometimes Bruce thought that he should be the one rotting in Arkham. Who was he to protect Gotham? He was a hypocrite. He hadn’t been stopped because the others only saw the good Batman did, but Bruce knew. Bruce saw.

Batman wasn’t a good man. He was a hero, yes. But he was not a good man.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A.N.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! In case the timeline is tripping you up, this chapter takes place 2 weeks after chapter 3, and one month after Rachel joined Spyral. Thank you again for your kind comments I'm so happy you've been enjoying the story!
> 
> Damian (Shadow): 28  
> Tim (Knight, previously Batboy): 24  
> Stephanie (Spoiler): 22  
> Cass (Black Bat): 22  
> Jason (Red Hood, previously Batboy): 21  
> Rachel (Robin): 18

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“It does make sense.”

“Nope, pretty sure it doesn’t”

“Rachel-”

“Like I get it, were spies, this is a spy school. But that doesn’t mean we’re suddenly equipped to teach at said spy school. A few months ago I was graduating from high school, I should not be in charge of shaping the minds of the future generation.”

“Please, _you’re_ not shaping any minds your teaching gymnastics.” Rachel glared across the table at Tiger who seemed to be regretting the conversation more and more as it went on. Flicking her pen at him she rolled her eyes as he caught it in mid-air without looking up from the notebook he was writing in.

“Show off.” Raising his gaze he looked at her incredulously.

“You’re calling _me_ a show-off? That’s literally the definition of the pot calling the kettle black.” Sitting back in her seat she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“All I’m saying is, I should not be in charge of children. It’s weird that they’re almost as old as me.” _How are they supposed to respect me if they see me as one of their peers?_ The thought wasn’t spoken but Tiger seemed to hear the uncertainty in her tone. Closing the notebook in front of him he set down his pen, finally giving her his focus.

“Rachel your only teaching 1st and 2nd years, the oldest student in your class is 16. They look up to you, it’s obvious to everyone that the students love your class. Two years can make a big difference when you’re young.” 

“You’re two years older than me.” She pointed out. Tiger looked put off by the observation however and squirmed in his seat.

“That’s different”

“How?” She tried to keep her face blank as he searched for the answer, amused by his obvious discomfort.

“We’re...colleagues.” Raising an eyebrow she stared him down until he conceded. “Fine, It’s weird. But it doesn’t matter, I stand by what I said, they respect you. You’re very talented.” Rachel smirked.

“You think I’m talented?” Tiger glowered at her gloating tone.

“Shut-up.” This time Rachel laughed out loud causing his glower to sour even further.

“I knew you had a soft spot for me Tony.” With a huff, he turned back to the work in front of him and ignored the jab. Rachel smiled as she watched him, a strange fondness washing over her. She had only been with Spyral for a month, but something about the group made her feel...warm. Strange how a super-secret espionage agency felt more like home than the manor had after Damian’s death. 

She loved her siblings but her relationship with Damian had been different.

She could never figure out why it had made her uncomfortable when Bruce called her his daughter. Never understood why she didn’t see the man as a Father, not as the others did. But then Damian died and Rachel felt like she had lost another parent. When she thought Bruce had died it had hurt, but she hadn’t broken. Damian had always been the one to take care of her, so the permanent move to the Penthouse hadn’t been strange. It had already felt like her home for years at that point. But Damian’s death had fractured her, had left her feeling unbalanced. And she had been so very angry because how was this fair? Bruce didn’t want to be stuck with her and she didn’t want to be stuck with him. And they screamed at one another for months because neither could fill the empty hole Damian left for each other.

Bruce lost a child, Rachel lost a Dad. Bruce couldn’t be her Father and Rachel didn’t want him to be.

And Rachel loved him in spite of that. She loved him even when he was cruel and cold and spiteful. Loved him even when she didn’t want to. Because even though he wasn’t her Dad he was still her family. 

And then he kicked her out, cut her off from the others, and she had never felt so adrift.

Somehow by some miracle, Spyral helped. It gave her purpose, both as an Agent and as a teacher. She never thought she’d enjoy teaching, but there was something so liberating about getting to share what you knew. She wasn’t limited as she had been in Gotham, she could show off her skills without fear of a secret identity being blown. She got to be whole here. She was valued here. She had a friend here.

Tiger was constantly annoyed by her. He groaned and grimaced through most of their training sessions and always rolled his eyes at her puns. But Rachel had no doubt that he thought of her as a friend. He showed that through quiet praise and begrudging smiles. Through soft words and a willingness to be vulnerable.

She loved her siblings, and she missed them terribly. But they had to like her, Tiger didn’t. That wasn’t something she would take for granted.

“Rachel?” She focused her gaze back on Tiger who was looking at her in concern. “I said your name several times…Are you alright?” Giving him a reassuring smile she nodded.

“Just thinking.” He scanned her face and after seeing no sign she was lying his concern faded.

“I’m impressed, I wasn’t aware that American’s had the ability to think.” Rachel snorted.

“That’s fair, good thing I’m not technically American otherwise I’d be insulted.” Confusion colored his face at her words.

“You’re not American?”

“Not originally at least. I lived there after my parents died but I wasn’t born there. I hadn’t even been to the country until I was eight. I assumed you knew that, isn’t there some file dictating my life somewhere in the Spyral database?” Tiger seemed intrigued as he took in her words, he shrugged in response.

“Spyral was interested in your time with the Batman. There is mention of your parent’s death but no other information.” Rachel felt a little insulted that her parents hadn’t been deemed important enough to be anything more than a footnote in her life. Tiger seemed to sense her irritation. “I apologize if I have offended you.” Rachel didn’t answer, after a moment he spoke again. “I would be honored if you shared your past with me. It would appear that I have assumed a few things about you and I would like to know where else I am wrong.” His eyes were earnest and Rachel thought about the offer.

She had talked about her family with her siblings a few times but not as much as she would have liked. Many of them hadn’t had as nice of a family as she, and they took after Bruce in that they didn’t feel the need to rehash the past. 

Tiger waited patiently, face opened but not pressuring, and in return, Rachel smiled.

“Did you know I grew up in a circus?” Tiger looked surprised for a moment as though he wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. Seeing that she was being truthful he let out a loud laugh, Rachel grinned at the response. 

“I did not, but suddenly many things make sense.”

And then she just talked. It was like a nozzle had been turned and all these memories and feelings were being poured out of her. 

She talked about her Father, kind and tall, with dark skin and even darker hair. She told him how John Grayson always wore a tattered brown leather jacket even when it was much too hot to be sporting one. How her Father would strum some old folk song on his guitar after a show for her and her Mother, the three of them cuddled together in a small yet warm trailer which had been her home for eight years. She told him about how Damian had tracked down her family belongings after she had been with the Waynes for a year. Had brought back her Fathers jacket and guitar, and how both were gently tucked away in her room. Her Father had been a funny man with a soft face and an easy way about him. 

“He’s personable”, is what her Mother told her once.

She told Tiger about her Mother, a very small woman with a very boisterous voice. How her soft brown hair was always tucked up in a neat bun unless they were performing. How her Mother couldn’t sing like her Father but she could tell stories better than anyone at Haley’s. Rachel told Tiger of how, though her Father was Romani, both she and her Mother had been born in Italy. Though Rachel’s birth in the country had been coincidental. When she was young her Mother would weave stories about a goat-faced girl and a young prince who fell in love with a statue. Romani melting into Italian, the words descriptive and magical.

Then she talked about Haley’s. 

How the longest they ever stayed in one spot was a month. How she had learned German from the strong man and mandarin from the fire-breather. And how she learned how to curse in 19 different languages by the time she was six much to her Mothers chagrin and her Fathers delight. She talked about sitting in the big top after the show ended. Everyone gathered in a circle laughing, eating, sharing stories. How they were a family, not by blood, but because they had found one another and loved each other freely. 

For the first time in a long time, Rachel spoke of her family and did not think of the gray night in Gotham nearly 10 years ago. Did not feel the sting of grief at the thought of her parent’s smile, but felt warm. She felt free. She had grieved what she had lost many times, quietly and away from her family. But never had she allowed herself to celebrate what she had had.

And the whole time Tiger sat with her and smiled. He laughed and asked her questions and when she was done he spoke.

He spoke of his own childhood. Born in Afghanistan in a town called Kandahar.

“Tiger King of Kandahar is what they called me.”

He spoke of worn-torn streets, of loneliness and hunger. How he spent so much of his youth so angry at the world, at the parents who left him to fend for himself in it. He spoke of his Jadda, an old woman who was not blood and could not take care of him but would always pass him food and clothes when he came by. Would tell him stories on the landing outside of her home, quiet so that her husband would not catch them. He spoke how his home was never beautiful, but at least it had been whole before the soldiers came.

He spoke of how at the age of 15 he had gone to his Jadda’s home and had found it destroyed. With no sign of the woman or her husband anywhere.

He spoke of how he had gotten the name Tiger King of Kandahar from acting as a quasi Robin Hood. How his methods had been cruel and violent and had caught the attention of Checkmate. How he had been loyal to them because they had ‘saved him’, gave him purpose. How they had taught him how to kill with a gun instead of a knife, and how he had thought he was doing the right thing when he worked for them.

And then he spoke of Alia. 

When he at first brought her up Rachel assumed she had just been his partner, but it was clear that Tiger loved her.

He spoke of how her hair was straight and brown and unextraordinary, how her eyes were gray but sharp. She was beautiful. She was intelligent and she was so incredibly and unbelievably patient. Patient with him when he was angry, because after years of being alone he didn’t know how to have someone to depend on. 

When he got to her death he grew quiet and Rachel grabbed his hand. He did not have to speak about that.

Giving her hand a tight squeeze the two looked at one another and Rachel was struck by how grateful she was of him. The last month had been awful, the last few months really, but finally Rachel felt like her old self again. 

Felt hopeful.

The two sat there for a moment, ruminating on all that had been shared, only breaking apart when they noticed Matron walking over to them, eyebrows raised in a questioning manner.

“I hate to break this up but we have another mission, and before you left I wanted you to meet the other task force members.” Rachel and Tiger stood from their seats and followed Matron out of the lounge they had been sitting in. The quiet moment broken but not forgotten.

When they arrived at the room Rachel had dubbed ‘The Spyral Sanctum’ _not as good as ‘The Batcave’ but she was working on it_ , they saw two other Agents waiting at one of the work tables. One was a short blonde woman in her mid-30’s, she was wearing the same uniform Rachel had on and her hands were fidgeting in her lap. The other was a man, he was covered head to toe in what looked like a costume inspired by crusaders. But instead of white his cape was red and had a hood attached to it which sat on his head. A metal mask covered his face,

“Agent 37, this is Poppy Ashemoore and George Cross. They are the other two members on the Paragon task force.” Cross held out his hand and smiling Rachel took it. Poppy waved from where she was sitting.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Rachel Grayson or Agent 37. Do you guys have super-secret spy names too or are me and Tiger just special?” Tiger groaned slightly at the remark but Cross gave a hearty laugh.

“She’s fun, we need someone like you to balance Agent 1’s grumbling.” The British accent both surprised and delighted Rachel and she chuckled in response. “I go by Agent 24 Love, or The Hood, whichever you’d fancy.” Rachel raised an eyebrow.

“The Hood? I know a Red Hood, though I must say his costume is not nearly as cool as yours.” Turning Rachel looked at Poppy who was staring at the two with a smirk. “What about you? Please tell me you don’t go by ‘The Bat’ I don’t know if I could handle that level of crossover.” The woman shook her head in amusement.

“Unfortunately I don’t have a… how did you put it? Super-secret spy name? If your itching for a title however you can call me Dr. Ashmoore.” 

“Dr. Ashmoore isn’t a field agent, she works as a medical Doctor.” Matron piped up behind Rachel. Cross moved away from Rachel and draped his arm around the Doctor’s shoulder. 

“And a bloody good one at that.” Poppy didn’t say anything but seemed pleased by the praise, she leaned deeper into his embrace. _Ahhh a couple, how very Mr. and Mrs. Smith_. 

“Agent 24 however is a field agent.” Matron continued, ignoring the interruption. “He’s in charge of deterring the Garden Leaders while you and Agent 1 go after Paragon parts.” 

“Leaders?” Rachel asked, unaware of the term. Matron pressed a button on the side of the work table and a hologram of the Batman look-alike Tiger had fought appeared. Cross pulled himself away from Poppy and spoke to Rachel.

“God’s Garden is run by the Gardner, clearly she doesn’t share our affinity for cool spy names,” He nodded at Rachel who suppressed a grin. “The Gardener runs and watches over the sanction but she never leaves. The Garden is constantly at threat of theft due to the artifacts they hold and her leaving would give thieves an advantage.”

“So she sends out the ‘Leaders’ to do her dirty work.” Rachel couldn’t see his face, but she could sense Cross giving her an appraising look.

“Right you are. There are three leaders, or rather there _were_ three. Ladytron, Doctor Leviticus, and your friend Midnighter here. From what we gathered Ladytron is the member who stole the Paragon parts and sold them.” Cross flicked his hand and the image changed to show a half woman half cyborg, she wore a leather jacket and had a short blue mohawk. “As you can imagine Gardner was none too pleased so she sent the other two leaders to do damage control. Leviticus is to dispose of Ladytron.” The image changed again and a shrewd looking woman appeared. Her hair was black and pulled into a tight bun, giving her the appearance of her skin being pulled back, causing her sharp cheekbones to cut in a striking manner. 

Strangely, she almost looked like an owl.

“There are three leaders. Leviticus is going after Ladytron which means Midnighter is trying to get the parts before we do right?” Rachel asked, piecing it together. Matron nodded.

“Exactly. Agent 24 has been tasked with handling Midnighter and leading him astray if possible. But he gave him the slip the night you went after Dubov.” Cross nodded.

“He realized I wasn’t after the parts and left before I could stop him. The good news is, the Gardner and her Leaders don’t know who Ladytron sold the parts to, but we do.” At this, he turned to Poppy who finally stood from where she was sitting.

“Ladytron got cocky and had an auction a few months ago after she had stolen them. My previous employer T.H.E.Y sent me to identify the buyers.” She stopped for a moment as though considering if she should say what she was about to. “I was… fired after I purchased the Paragon Stomache for myself” _Fired, i.e. tried to kill her_ , Rachel thought before the rest of Poppy’s sentence caught up to her.

“Wait _you_ purchased the stomach?” Poppy shuffled, uncomfortable with the question.

“When I learned the scope of the Stomach’s ability I had reservations about giving it to T.H.E.Y, but after I had gotten it I did not have the equipment to preserve the organ...so I implanted it in myself.” Cross moved over to her and gripped her hand, Matron picked up where she left off.

“The implant is embedded with the Flash’s DNA, it gave her his speed powers but also accelerated her aging. By the time we got to her, she was close to 80. Luckily we were able to extract the implants and regress her back to her appropriate age. She decided to join Spyral and gave us the information we needed to find the other buyers.” Matron tapped the table and brought up a new image.

It was a man in his late 40’s, he was wearing a long trench coat and held two revolvers in his hands. His auburn hair came to below his shoulder and his mutton chops melted into his hairline. The most striking thing about him however were the empty sockets where his eyes should be. Poppy came closer to the table.

“Christophe Tanner a.k.a Old Gun, he’s a blind assassin. He didn’t buy any implants but he did steal them from Barton Tare who purchased them.” Rachel peered at the image, confusion flooding her.

“I’ve never heard of a blind assassin.” The image changed to show a close up of his revolvers.

“Would you believe it if I told you he could see using his guns?” Rachel looked up at Poppy in surprise a smile stretching onto her face.

“I don’t know if that’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard or the stupidest.”

“Focus Agent 37.” Tiger spoke behind her, and turning around she stuck her tongue out at him before looking back at Poppy. The Doctor was watching them in amusement. Matron however stepped forward making her attention turn to her.

“Old Gun stole the Paragon eyes, they grant enhanced vision and hold the DNA of Aquaman. Luckily he hasn’t had surgery to implant them but it’s only a matter of time.” Switching the image, a hologram of a young boy appeared on the screen. He had to be seven or eight but the similarities between him and his Father were uncanny. “Old Gun has one soft spot and that’s his son.” Rachel took a step back from the group, her eyes narrowing at the implication.

“You want to kidnap a child?” Cross held up his hands in a nonthreatening manner.

“We’re not going to harm the kid, the plan is to pick him up from school to lure Old Gun out. As soon as we receive the implants we’ll take him home.” Rachel was still suspicious.

“And if you don’t receive them?” Matron spoke up from beside her.

“Rachel, this is not a hostage situation. The plan isn’t to negotiate with Old Gun it’s to jump him. If whatever reason we fail then we will still bring the child home. We need you to stay with him while Agent 1 and 24 fight Old Gun. Keep him safe and away from the fighting. It’s the only way to lure him out, and the only chance we have to get the eyes before he implants them.” The other three were staring at Rachel, waiting for her response but not judging her hesitancy. _The kids not going to be hurt, just think of it as a babysitting gig_.

With a deep breath, she nodded her head.

“Fine, when do we leave?”

  
  


************************************************************************

  
  


Actually getting the kid was easy. Like, scarily easy. So easy that Rachel contemplated giving the kid a lecture on stranger danger before she returned him home. Maybe It was the fact that no one expected a young woman dressed in a sundress to be a threat. Maybe it was the fact that the kid hadn’t disagreed when she told his teacher that his Mom had sent her to pick him up. But regardless thirty minutes after she arrived at the elementary school in a beat-up minivan Matron had found for her, she and Chris Jr. were sitting in an abandoned daycare Spyral had commandeered. Agent 1 and 24 remained in the lobby waiting for Old Gun, and the kid was oblivious to the men much to Rachels relief.

She was really trying not to think about the fact that she just kidnapped a kid.

They just finished working on his homework and Rachel was looking around desperately trying to think of a way to entertain him. Despite Matron thinking she was the best for the job, she had her reservations. She had always been the youngest, the only time she had interacted with kids was when they had been her own age.

“Do you want to play ISpy?”

“No.”

“Do you want to do a puzzle?”

“No.”

“We could maybe draw for a bit?”

“No, thank you.” Rachel suppressed a sigh, it seemed like everything she suggested was doomed to be struck down. She was just about to suggest they read when she noticed a Superman patch on his bookbag.

“Do you like Superman?” Finally, that got some reaction from the kid and eyes wide he nodded hurriedly.

“He’s my favorite superhero.” Rachel smiled at that, a rush of fondness breezing over her at the thought of Clark.

“Yeah, he’s pretty cool… You know... I’ve met him.” If possible the kid’s eyes grew wider. _Jackpot_. For the next 45 minutes, Rachel told him all about her run-ins with the Boy in Blue. Censoring the story so that she fit the role of civilian as opposed to hero. And the whole time the kid kept a running list of questions which Rachel tried her best to answer.

_“Is it true he has a flying dog? Have you ever been to his secret lair? Can he really shoot lasers out of his eyes?”_

She was just about to answer whether or not he was as tall as he looked when a loud gunshot came from the other room. Chris Jr.’s look of glee quickly morphed into one of terror and a small whimper came out of his mouth. Pulling him into her, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug, and lifting him she moved to the corner of the room. Sitting down and curling her body around him.

“It’s okay I got you.” More gunshots came followed by yelling. Rachel couldn’t recognize the voice so she assumed it was Old Gun. The kid began shaking in her arms and she tightened her hold. “Hey, hey, hey Chris it’s okay. I’ve got you, your alright.” The door to the room burst open and Rachel quickly cut off her words. The corner she was hiding in was to the right of the entrance and an old bookshelf blocked her from view. Holding her breath she waited for a moment, for movement, for yelling, anything. A gunshot filled the air and a bullet came whizzing through two books leaning against one another, hitting Rachel in her lower back.

Instantly it was like she was on fire. A shocked gasp came out of her mouth and Chris screamed at the sound of the gun. She had been shot once before in the shoulder but this was different. The fire raged up and down her back causing her to hunch over. But the movement only made it hurt more. Pushing aside the pain she pulled herself away from the kid to make sure the bullet hadn’t gone through and hit him as well. He was crying but he looked unharmed. Loud footfalls filled the air and looking up Rachel saw Old Gun standing in front of her, revolver pointing directly at her face. 

“Give me my son.” Without a response, the kid was ripped from her grasp and he hauled the child up onto his hip. Chris was now vocally sobbing. “If my son weren’t here I’d put a bullet straight through your skull.” The man turned away and Rachel slumped to the side of the wall, panting from the exertion of holding herself up. She could feel her blood soaking through the sundress she was wearing and lifting a hand she tried to put pressure on the wound.

Her vision went white from the touch, the pain unbearable. And she held her breath for a moment. It felt like she was on fire like her body was burning from the inside out. She heard a clamor come from the doorway but it wasn’t until she felt cool hands on her face did she notice Tiger looking down at her in concern. Agent 24 nowhere to be seen. Swallowing the saliva in her mouth she gave him a small grin. 

“Two deaths in the span of a month, that must be a record. Most people only get one.” Tiger did not laugh, instead, he turned her over and put pressure on her wound. Rachel let out a hiss in discomfort and the edges of her vision became static.

“You’re not going to die.” He sounded so forceful that she didn’t quite know how to respond to the statement. 

“K...” He continued putting pressure on her back and Rachel felt herself grow more lightheaded. When she spoke her voice was lighter than it had been before. “So what’s the plan?”

“Agent 24 has called Spyral, they’re sending a plan and should arrive shortly. He’s keeping an eye out for Old Gun while we wait.” Rachel tried to nod but her head was too heavy to move. _Blood loss really goes fast huh?_

“The implants-”

“We got them. 24 was securing them when Old Gun stunned me for a moment. That’s how he was able to come back here… I apologize that I allowed him to get past me to you.” Rachel rolled her eyes but because she was turned away from him Tiger didn’t see. Her body was still leaning against the wall and she closed her eyes for a moment just to rest. 

“Not..your fault. Don’t..apologize.” With one hand pressed to her back, Rachel felt Tiger lift his other and brush her hair away from her face.

“It’s okay Rachel, I’ve got you.”

  
  


************************************************************************

The next thing she knew she was blinking her eyes opened and took in the view of the Spyral Med Bay. Her whole body felt numb, but there was a strange warm pressure on her lower back. An IV stuck out of the top of her right hand and she could feel a nasal canal sitting on top of her face. There was a small light on, and even though there were no windows she had a feeling it was nighttime. 

And she was completely alone.

Suddenly her mind flashed back to the moment just over a month ago when she was waking up in the Batcave, and she felt her whole body tense when the door opened. Not even relaxing when she realized it was Poppy coming into the room. The woman smiled at her when she noticed she was awake but Rachel could not return the gesture.

“Agent 1, it’s good to see you awake. Your probably a little confused but you should know that you’re going to be fine. You were out for a few days to recover but the bullet missed your vital organs and we were able to get it out without any issues. You’ll be off duty for a few weeks, but outside of that there shouldn’t be any long-term effects.” She paused as though expecting Rachel to say something but Rachel just stared at her, body tense. With a small smile, Poppy continued. “It can be quite shocking to be shot, but I promise you’ll be alright. You just missed Tiger, he’s been in here for days. Matron finally ordered Agent 24 to give him a sedative so that he could get some rest.” Poppy let out a small chuckle at that but still, Rachel said nothing.

A month ago when she had woken up from being kidnapped Bruce had beat her into complacency. And here a near-stranger was showing more kindness than her supposed family had. 

Rachel felt her eyes well up with tears and looking away from Poppy she tilted her head up, willing them to recede. Vaguely she could hear Poppy say something but she did not respond. Swiping a hand at her face when a tear fell down her cheek. After a moment she could hear someone new step into the room and look at her.

“Oh Rachel…” Looking over she saw Matron staring at her, a look of pity on her face. The older woman moved forward and sat on the edge of her bed. Matron lifted her hand up pausing when Rachel flinched at the movement. Stilling for a moment, she slowly brought her hand down to rest it on top of Rachel’s own. “Your safe here. I can’t promise you that you’ll never get hurt but I can promise _we_ will never hurt you.”

And for some reason, Rachel believed her.

  
  


************************************************************************

Two weeks, it had taken two weeks for Father to finally leave the Manor long enough for them to check the footage. Damian was a patient man, he knew how to bide his time to achieve what he wanted. But with each passing moment, he felt himself coil tighter and tighter in irritation. Rachel had been dead for over a month and if he had it his way she wouldn’t stay that way for long.

At some point, Stephanie had blabbed their plan to Tim and so when Bruce finally left the Manor to make an appearance at Wayne Industries the 24-year-old joined the three in the cave. At first, Damian had been annoyed by the addition but after Cassandra pointed out Tim was the best with computers he acquiesced. Especially after they realized the recording wasn’t with the rest of the cowl footage. 

That in itself wasn’t that surprising. His Father had most likely wanted to save it somewhere else since it documented such a devastating event. No, the strange thing was that when Tim finally found it, the video was in an encrypted file titled ‘Birdwatcher’. 

“Birdwatcher? Can you open it?” Stephanie asked, leaning over the back of Tim’s chair to peer at the screen. Tim raised an eyebrow at her.

“Do you really think B has the computer skills to hide anything from me?” He had a point, his Father’s skills were more...analog than the others. He had most likely trusted that the others would respect his wishes and not dig into that night. Tim opened the folder fairly quickly and there were several files in it. The first two files were videos, one timestamped the night Rachel had died, the other the day of her funeral. The other four files were MP3’s, there was one recording each week for the last four weeks. “What is all this?” Tim murmured in confusion.

“It does not matter, we’re here for the video we can look at the other files afterward.” The others turned to Damian. Various degrees of hesitancy marring their faces. Cassandra spoke up from his side.

“It is not too late Brother, we do not have to watch-”  
  


“I _need_ to see it.” Damian sharply cut her off, his words firm. _I wasn’t even there. I wasn’t there when she died. I owe it to her to watch this._ Cassandra still looked hesitant and Damian felt himself soften. “You do not have to stay. But she was my partner, she was my...I was supposed to protect her and I failed. And I just need to know.” _Was she in pain, was she tortured beforehand? Was there anything that could have been done differently to save her? Would it have mattered if I was alive?_

“We’ll stay.” Damian looked over to Timothy who was staring at him with an intensity he had not seen in a while. The man had seemed wilted the last few weeks but a familiar gleam shone in his eyes now. “If you need to see this then we can’t stop you, but we can keep you company.” A swell of gratitude filled Damian at his Brothers words and he felt his throat constrict at the sudden surge of emotion. Without waiting for a response Timothy turned back to the computer and after hesitating for a moment selected the first video.

And with bated breath, they waited.

The first thing they saw was a dark gray door, a loud banging noise filled the room as Batman tried to get through.

“Move.” Came an unfamiliar female voice and without responding Batman moved out of the way. After a moment of tinkering the door swung up. His Father to rush into the room, giving Damian his first glimpse of Rachel. Damian took in a sharp breath at the sight of his sister and he could hear the others do so as well.

Rachel was hanging in the middle of the room, inside what looked like a metal cocoon. She was shirtless giving Damian a good look at the metal device that was embedding itself through her sports bra into her chest. When Batman entered she looked up in concern, which gave Damian a good few of all the bruises and cuts that littered her face. Her black hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and blood dripped from her cut lip down to her chin. A loud clanging filled the room signifying the door shut behind them.

**_“Congratulations. You’ve found Robin.”_ **

“What is Lex Luther doing there?” Stephanie asked but no one answered her, eyes glued to the screen. As Batman rushed over to Rachel Damian felt his stomach drop at the realization that the metal device in her chest was a bomb.

**_“Batman you have to leave, it’s a trap.”_ **

Rachel’s voice was soft but firm. Raspy from either disuse or dehydration, or both. And with a start, Damian realized that this was the first time he had heard her voice in months. Looking at his sister Damian couldn’t help but be struck by the changes he noticed. _She looks older. How is that possible? I’ve only been gone for a few months?_

**_“Bruce you need to leave please, there’s a bomb.”_ **

He had only been dead for 3 months at that point, had only been gone for a quarter of a year but the changes to his sister were clear. The last remnants of baby fat had melted from her face leaving a lean jaw in its place. Her cheeks were sharper then he remembered, indicating she had lost a little weight in his absence. _She never did want to eat when she was stressed._ Though her hair was pulled back he could tell it was shorter. Most likely falling to her shoulders now as opposed to her elbows which had been the length she had preferred to keep it at. 

  
  


**“I’m going to disarm it and get you out of here, Rachel.”**

**_  
_ ** **_“You don’t understand-”_ **

**_“The Countdown is monitoring her heart Batman. The detonator is hooked in it.”_ **

**_“Batman the bomb… it only disarms if my heart stops.”_ **

  
  


And that’s when Damian realized the real reason she looked older to him. The main catalyst for change. 

_She’s given up._

Rachel Grayson was an optimist, infuriatingly so. She truly believed in the good of people. Truly believed that things would work out in the end. Despite all the horrors she had seen, the hurt she experienced, she always had hope. When Damian first met her he had hated it. Had chalked it up to her being young and naive. He knew the world, knew it was an awful place full of cruel people. But Rachel had remained steadfast in her belief and eventually he had found himself clinging onto her hope. Now though, there was no light in her eyes. And she looked like a stranger.

He felt a hand wrap around his forearm and pulling his gaze from the screen he looked at Cassandra who was still watching the scene unfold.

“After you died it went out… the light. It was like… she was lost. No hope. For weeks she just stayed in bed, didn’t leave, everyone was worried but also grieving. Didn’t know how to help. When she finally got up she was different-”

“She was angry,” Tim said quietly his own gaze turned to the pair. “Furious. She didn’t see the point anymore. Didn’t understand why she should fight for others when _her_ family kept dying. She still went out but she became so violent, even Jason was worried. And Bruce...he didn’t know how to deal with it.” A loud bang filled the screen and Damian snapped his focus back just in time to see Batman blasted out of the way.

**“I’m making an executive decision Batman, I’m saving our lives...by ending her’s.”**

Damian watched as Luther shoved a pill in her mouth and covered her face with his hand, smothering her with it. Watched as his sister struggled in Luther’s grasp, body bucking wildly to get free. Watched as her eyelids grew heavy and her body slowed until it finally stopped. Watched as Luther stepped back, a blank look on his face.

A loud beeping filled the cave and the machine holding Rachel opened, causing her body to drop to the floor with a quiet thud. Batman ran to her picking her up and cradling her to him. Her head dangling and her face completely slack.

It was like Damian’s world was muffled, like he had been placed underwater and could no longer hear properly. He felt a heat underneath his collar that was rising up his neck and a nauseous pit drop into his stomach. Knees buckling he grabbed onto Timothy’s chair for support, bowing his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? What was next? How does he fix this? 

How to explain how grief feels like? It’s like the strings to your body have been cut and you want to collapse to the floor. Want to curl in on yourself and clutch at your chest because you can feel your body breaking apart. And perhaps if you curl in tighter you can keep the pieces together. Grief is like a meltdown. As you sob you feel as though you’re vomiting out the despair but there’s too much to get out. You start dry heaving because there is nothing inside of you, even though you feel _everything_ inside of you. It’s a loud keening that you want to stop but you can’t. And you’d give anything, _anything_ to just be numb for a moment. Because this, this is just too much. And you can’t _breathe_. 

They say that death is for the living and Damian couldn’t help but feel like that was true. When he died he felt nothing. But watching her die he feels everything.

“Damian. DAMIAN.” Lifting his head his gaze meets Tims who is looking at him in surprise. As though he can’t believe that Damian is capable of caring so much. He pulls himself together quickly though and continues. “You need to see this.” With trepidation, Damian looks to the screen taking in the new view.

Batman is kneeling over Rachel a syringe in his hand. With a forceful plunge down he stabs it into her chest and releases the contents.

And then they wait.

And then Rachel _gasps_.

“What the fuck?” Stephanie’s words, though not eloquent, summarizes his thoughts. They watch as Batman picks up the now breathing Rachel, watch as he moves out the room and runs into Owlman. Watch as his Father takes a different syringe from the villain and goes to the Batmobile. And watch as he injects Rachel with the mysterious ‘sedative’ and gets into the car. “Rachel’s alive? Why would Bruce lie?” No one has an answer for that and frankly, Damian’s still recovering from the whiplash of seeing his sister murdered and then resurrected. A calculating look however appeared on Tim’s face.

“The other video.” Turning back to the computer Timothy typed furiously bringing up the page with the other files. Hesitancy gone, he swiftly selected the second video that was dated on Rachel’s funeral. This one showed the security cameras of the cave. The main room with the computer, the hanger, and the medbay where Rachel was getting up from her cot. _She’s really alive._

Rachel made her way over to the Batcomputer and began to read something that was on the screen. Whatever was on there seemed to anger her, because when Bruce showed up behind her she growled at him with a level of venom that Damian had never heard come from her.

  
  


**_“What the hell is this Bruce?”_ **

**_  
_ ** **_“We had your funeral today.”_ **

**_“I’m alive.”_ **

**_“Are you?_ **

**_“_ ** **_Yes._ ** **_”_ **

**_“Then prove it.”_ **

  
  


Then Damian watched furiously as his Father attacked her, forcing her to go on a secret mission. When the video ended the cave was silent. Anger radiating off of each of his siblings.

“I’m going to kill him.” Surprisingly it was Tim who said it. Standing from his chair and moving to go out of the cave. That seemed to pull Damian out of his own swell of fury, for he moved in front of his brother to stop him.

“Calm down Drake.” Timothy glared up at Damian and moved to go around him, Damian however sidestepped him blocking him once more.

“Get out of my way Wayne.”

“No.” Tim growled and pushed him slightly to make him move, but Damian stood his ground.

“Move Damian.” 

“ **No.”** Tim pushed him again, furious at his refusal, Cass and Stephanie moved quickly over to the two but Damian did not waiver.

“How are you so calm! How are you not mad about this. Damian, we just saw Bruce fucking hit Rachel. He’s been lying to us for weeks. He told us she was dead and while we weren’t looking he sent her on a suicide mission! He’s supposed to protect her. He’s supposed to love us. Or at least fucking _care_ about us.” Damian waited for Timothy to finish before speaking, his own quiet voice a grand contrast to the yelling that had just occurred.

“ _Of course I’m mad,_ but you’re the smart one Drake, think. If what we say is true then Rachel is out there working undercover for a dangerous espionage agency. We need to get her out as soon as possible. After that, we can deal with _Bruce_.” The use of his Father’s first name seemed to shock some of the anger out of Tim. Damian had never called him anything but ‘Father’, but at the moment he wanted nothing to do with the man. Eventually, Tim nodded in agreement.

“Fine. What’s our first move?” Damian took a deep breath and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“We need to tell the others.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Some suicidal thoughts later in the chapter, if you don’t want to read you can either skip this chapter or skip the section starting with “Bruce pulled himself out of the clocktower as a pit of dread settled in his stomach.” And you can start back up on the next section.
> 
> Damian (Shadow): 28  
> Barbara (Oracle, OG Batgirl): 29  
> Tim (Knight, previously Batboy): 24  
> Stephanie (Spoiler): 22  
> Cass (Black Bat): 22  
> Jason (Red Hood, previously Batboy): 21  
> Rachel (Robin): 18

Damian stood tense, hands clasped behind his back as he stood waiting in the back corner of the room. Cassandra and Stephanie sat close together on the worn green couched pushed against the wall to his right. Cassandra’s eyes were fixed in front of her, her face was blank and her stare was miles away. Stephanie’s head was bowed, watching her own hands as they fidgeted in her lap. Timothy stood next to Damian, leaning back against the wall and head turned to the ceiling, ears twitching with each thud and groan coming from the screen in front of them.

Damian however wasn’t paying attention to the screen, he didn’t need to see the videos again. He already knew how they ended. No, his focus was on Barbara and Jason, who were watching the videos for the first time. Their backs were turned to him so he couldn’t see their faces, but he could see Jason’s shoulders tense and inch up closer to his ears. Flinching at every hit. Barbara’s body was neutral. Still in an almost unnatural way. That in itself was strange.

Barbara had never possessed Rachel’s levels of twitchiness and squirming, but she was a restless person by nature. Even when focused she moved in some way. Hands tapping against the computer console, head-bopping to an imaginary tune when cooking, foot-tapping against the roof on a particularly boring patrol as Batgirl.

When she and Damian had been young and the only protegees it had used to drive him crazy. His Father had been stoic still like a gargoyle and heavy with his movements, his Mother had been direct, posed like a snake before attacking. But Barbara had been impatient, filled with unrestrained energy. Unrestrained when waiting, but controlled and pointed when she was ready for an attack.

When the video ended she took her glasses off and brought one of her hands to her mouth, but did not say anything. Something about her screamed _threat_ , and if Damian wasn’t so angry at his Fath- _Bruce_ he would have felt concerned for him. No one wanted Barbara Gordon on their bad side.

Jason was not so still. Turning from the screen Damian could see that his pupils are blown wide in anger and were shining green. His whole body was tense, so tense that Damian knew he would be sore from how tightly he was holding himself. His breathing was heavy as he stepped away from Barbara, putting distance between himself and the others.

Without any warning, Jason turned and punched the wall, leaving a small dent in the drywall exposing the layer of brick beneath. Damian winced at the movement the audible sound of bones cracking filling the room. Everyone’s eyes went to him and Tim took a small step forward.

“Jay-” He was cut off by Jason who held up his noninjured hand, Tim fell silent but he took another step towards the man before Damian reached out an arm to stop him. Jason’s eyes were closed and he took a deep breath before finally looking at the others. The green remained in his eyes but dark blue was also peaking through which was a relief.

“How do we get her back?” His words came out tight and low and Damian took that as his cue to speak.

“We need to track her, we know she’s with Spyral but nothing more than that. Batman implied that they would find her, perhaps if we know where she went after she left the cave we can track her?” He turned to Barbara who nodded.

“She’ll have been covering her movement, but it shouldn’t be too difficult... She probably assumed no one would be looking for her.” The second part of her sentence was said coldly and Damian couldn’t help but share her sentiment. He didn’t like the thought that Rachel would not expect anyone to be worried for her, care about her. Jason looked over at them

“Do we know what she’s doing for them? _He_ told her that Spyral was dangerous but didn’t care to elaborate when forcing her onto this mission. Do we have any other information?” Damian was about to respond ‘no’ when Timothy’s eyes lit up.

“The voice recordings, we forgot to listen to them in the cave. There’s one for each week she’s been gone. They’re probably mission reports.” Without a word, Barbara turned back to her computer and went back to the Birdwatcher file. Opening up the first file. A quiet crackling filled the room before Rachel’s voice came through.

**“-They call it the Paragon Protocol.”**

_“What does it entail?”_

**“There are six parts, five are body parts imbued with league members DNA, the sixth is a hard drive.”**

_“They want to bring them together, make an android. Why?”_

**“Think of it as a kill switch for the league, they believe heroes should have oversight.... They believe their anonymity has the potential to be a danger to civilians.”**

_“They want to destroy the league.”_

**“Not necessarily, they just want a backup-”**

_“And your role?”_

**“... They want me to join the task force, to assist in... harvesting the organs before God’s Garden gets them back.”**

Damian’s stomach dropped at that, they want Rachel to kill for them? Looking around he noticed similar looks of horror on his sibling’s face. Barbara however looked at the screen in contemplation.

“God’s Garden.” Damian raised an eyebrow.

“You know them?” Barbara turned her chair to look at them.

“I do, so does the League. We have a... quasi relationship with them. They’re a secure sanctum in space that holds superhuman technology and bio-weapons deemed too dangerous to be kept on Earth.”

“Why have I not heard of them?” Damian asked, it seemed like a pretty important organization to keep tabs on. Barbara shrugged.

“You don’t work with the League, usually Manhunter acts as a liaison as opposed to Batman. I’ve been asked out to assist them a couple of times.” Turning back to her computer she pulled up what looked like a communication log and sent a message. “I’ll ask to speak with one of their Leaders, if they’re against Spyral they should know Rachels undercover.“ Closing out of the window, she went back to the file and selected another audio message.

**“- All parts have been tracked down to the original buyer, the plan is to go after the buyer, preferably before they implant them.”**

_“Have you been scheduled to go after any of the buyers yet?”_

**“No. But Tiger thinks that we’ll be-”**

_“Tiger?”_

**“Agent One, my… handler.”**

_“You said Matron was your supervisor”_

**“She is, but Tiger is also on the task force and has been in charge of my training.”**

_“I see.”_

**“... Agent One believes we’ll be sent on a mission soon. I will inform you once that occurs.”**

_“Is there anything else?”_

**“...That’s everything.”**

The hesitation in her voice was obvious and Damian had to wonder what it was she was keeping from his Father. Before he could voice his query Barbara played the next file.

_“Birdwatcher, you are late.”_

**“I know I’m sorry, I had a mission. Spyral has obtained the first Paragon implant, the one with DNA belonging to Cyborg.”**

_“Oh?”_

**“I killed someone.”**

The room tensed at Rachel’s quiet admission. A sense of disbelief hanging in the air at her words. A sense of disbelief because there was no way that Rachel Grayson could ever kill someone.

_“Good Spyral is bound to trust you now... Birdwatcher is there anything else?_

**“No. There’s Nothing.”**

“He’s unbelievable.” Jasons words were quiet but vibrating with obvious anger. “He’s so...he’s fucking unbelievable. How could he just… After all these years reprimanding us for killing he forces her to….” The words cut off, as though Jason couldn’t even string together what he was thinking. Damian felt the same way.

His Father’s teaching had been strict and to hear him throw away his own morals for the benefit of the mission was unnerving. It didn’t sit well with Damian how easily his Father swayed, how easily he used Rachel.

Rachel was not a naive person, she never had been though others often mistook her optimism for it. She knew how the world worked. But she was kind, and she loved more fiercely than anyone. And to learn she had taken a life, had been put in a position where she had no choice but to. It wasn’t right.

Before he could ruminate further however a large wooden door appeared in the middle of the room. And a large man dressed in a black trench coat and a cowl eerily similar to Batmans stepped out. Instinctively Damian felt his body go on the defense, prepared for an attack, only stopping when he noticed Barbara staring at the man with an unimpressed look on her face.

“You couldn’t have used the door like a normal person?” The man grinned and shut his own door behind him. Causing the frame to vanish out of sight.

“Technically I did use the door, It just wasn’t yours.” The man looked around at them, before looking back at Barbara. “Had I known this was a party I would have brought balloons.” Rolling her eyes Barbara ignored his quip.

“We know about the missing Paragon Parts.” That seemed to zap any sense of joviality out of the man. He straightened his posture and his face dropped the amuse look he had been wearing.

“The Garden’s been keeping that snafu under wraps for a while now, how did you find out about it?”

“Wait.” Tim stepped forward towards the man. “You work for Gods Garden, you’re a Leader?” The man nodded, not taking his eyes off of Barbara.

“One of them, the names Midnighter. I’d ask yours but I don’t care.” Tim huffed indignantly but was ignored. “I ask again Oracle, what do you know?” Barbara turned to her computer and pulled up a recent photo of Rachel in her Robin costume. She was masked but the man seemed to recognize her. “The Honey Potter? She’s a Bat?” Damian did not appreciate the nickname, nor did he care to find out how she received it. But he did find it curious that the man knew Rachel.

“She is. How do you know her?” Midnighter looked away from the screen.

“Ran into her in Russia, she and her partner went after Ninel Dubov, he purchased one of the parts. She killed him before I could do it myself.” He turned to look back at the screen, interest coloring his eyes. “A Bat gone bad, now that’s interesting.” Damian felt the need to defend Rachel.”

“She was forced to go undercover with Spyral, she’s not ‘gone bad’’. Midnighter shrugged.

“Whether she’s gone bad or not the Gardner is gunning for her. She and her employer are trying to build a superweapon and we can’t allow that to happen.”

“And what does that mean?” Midnighter turned back to Damian.

“It means that now that we know they work for Spyral eventually we’re going to attack them. When we do the Gardner will have us kill all the agents and destroy the Paragon Parts. That includes your Bat.” Damian felt a fierce wave of protectiveness hit him.

“You can’t do that. She’s _undercover_.”

“You sure about that?” Midnighter shot back. “She’s killed for them, she’s kidnapped for them, last I heard she even was shot for them. That sounds like loyalty to me.” What do you mean she was shot? Before he could ask Midnighter, the man flicked his hand and a new doorway appeared. “Listen I’ll let Gardner know, but I can’t promise that she’ll be safe. Not if she keeps running around with Spyral.” Without another word, the man stepped into the doorway. Vanishing as soon as the door swung shut behind him.

Damian was angry, he was so unbelievably angry that his sister was in danger and there was nothing he could do about it. Angry that she had been forced to do awful things, angry that she had been tortured and killed. Angry at the injustice of it all. Looking around he could see his own anger mirrored on his sibling’s face, and he realized what they would have to do. He turned to Barbara.

“Call him. Call Batman.” She looked surprised at his request.

“Damian, I’m not sure-”

“This is his fault, he did this and so he is going to fix this. We are going to let him know we know. And he will bring her back.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“We will make him.” The two stared at one another for a moment before Barbara nodded and turned to do so. His siblings said nothing, but he could sense their unease.

And so, they waited. But not for long.

Almost thirty minutes later Bruce came in through the ClockTower window. His face was covered but Damian could tell he was confused by the appearance of everyone. He looked at Damian first, expectantly.

“What is this.”

Damian wanted to explain himself eloquently. Describe how they found out about Rachel and Spyral. Demand that he help bring her back. Reprimand him for lying to all of them. But all his anger seemed to muffle itself. Instead, he just felt tired and disappointed.

“You’re supposed to take care of us.”

“Damian?”

“You’re supposed to take care of us, that’s what you signed up for. That’s the decision _you_ made when you took us in. To protect us. Maybe you didn’t choose me, maybe I was forced on you, maybe you didn’t get a say in that. Fine. But them?” Damian looked behind him at his siblings. “You choose them and you’re not doing your job. They should be more important to you than a mission. They are your responsibility. Not Gotham. _Not Spyral_.”

Understanding hit his Father and the familiar cold shield settled in. The one that told Damian there would be no reasoning with the Batman. He would not be swayed, he would not be told he was wrong.

“She agreed to it.”

“She’s a _child_.” He growled, “And you didn’t give her a choice.”

“She understood that the mission was important-”

“She understood if she said no you would hit her until she said yes. She understood that there was no reasoning with you. She understood that the world thought she was dead, and no one would be looking for her and she _trusted_ you.” Damian felt himself shake, the words flowing out of him. “You’re the adult, she trusted you to take care of her to _protect_ her.”

“The Syndicate-”

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE SYNDICATE.” And for the first time, Batman’s shield broke, surprised at Damian’s raised tone. Damian and him had fought many times, but rarely did he yell. “I don’t give a fuck that you didn’t get there in time. I don’t care. Because she made it out of there alive. But _you_ sent her away. You lied to us. You hurt her.” Bruce flinched at the words but Damian didn’t care. Pushing past his Father he leaned over Barbara to pull back up the cave surveillance video, the one showing Bruce attacking Rachel. Damian turned back to his Father.

“You put her in a coma and when she woke up you hurt her until she agreed to do what you wanted her to do. I don’t know if you’re really so broken that you can’t tell that this is atrocious or if you just don’t care. I don’t know which is worse.” Damian took a deep sigh to settle himself and felt Barbara wrap a comforting hand around his wrist. “You’ve never been a parent first, and we understood that we accepted that. But now it’s like you’ve forgotten to be anything but Batman. And Batman is dangerous.” Walking forward he stood a foot away from his Father who was looking at him with a strange look on his face.

“You’re going to help us get her back. And then you’re going to stay away from them, _all of them_. You won’t talk to them, you won’t work with them. Not as Bruce, not as Batman. Not until they decide they’re ready.”

“Damian I-”

“I am not opening this up for discussion.” And for once Bruce shut his mouth. Perhaps aware that Damian was deadly serious, aware that he had made a mistake. “Go to the cave, pull up everything you have on Spyral, on Rachel’s mission. We’ll be back in an hour to go over everything.”

And Damian turned away from him, dismissing his Father. He didn’t look at him as he left back out through the window, he only kept his eyes on his siblings who were looking at him in gratitude.

He would do anything for them. Even protect them from their Father if he had to.

************************************************************************

Bruce pulled himself out of the clocktower as a pit of dread settled in his stomach. He made his way across the Gotham skyline, landing quietly on the Wayne Tower’s roof. Sitting down, legs dangling over the edge, he looked at the sea of lights before him. The quiet sound of traffic floated up to him, and random office windows were aglow. If he were closer he’d see tired businessmen burning the midnight oil. Instead, it was just boxes of yellow breaking up the gray Gotham sky.

And for the first time in a long time, Bruce didn’t know what to do.

Pulling his cowl down and letting it settle at his neck he turned his face up to the sky. Tired and lost. _When did this happen?_ He thought. _When did I become someone I hated?_ But no answer came, no one told him how to fix this. He knew he should go home as Damian instructed, but he couldn’t do it. Because Alfred was there, and soon he would find out what Bruce had done, and Bruce couldn’t handle his disappointment. Couldn’t stomach the thought of Alfred hating him too. Not like Damian did.

Damian, his son who had failed so many times, yet somehow, by some miracle, had turned out better than he should have. Better than Talia, certainly better than Bruce. The fact that Damian had separated himself from his siblings, had thought Bruce didn’t love him just because he hadn’t ‘chosen’ him, stung. But the worse part was, Bruce could see why he thought that, could see how his actions had pushed his child away.

_I was afraid. Of losing them. That’s why I pushed them away. It’s because I’m a coward._

And not for the first time, Bruce looked over the edge of the building and wondered if things would have been better had he been killed that night with his parents. I wouldn’t be able to cause pain if I was no longer here. The thought scared him, not because he thought it but because he almost believed it. More than he ever had before. In the past when he had thought these things he would point to his children as a reason to hold on, point to Gotham. But now?

_The others need you to find Rachel._

Only because he himself had put her in harm’s way. They only needed his help because he had caused the problem.

Standing Bruce looked over the edge, in a curious manner. The analytical part of his mind was turned off. He wasn’t thinking about how many feet to the ground it was. Wasn’t thinking about the speed at which he would fall, or the last moment he could pull out his grapple to save himself. He only had one thought.

_It’s just a step._

A soft breeze washed over him for a moment, but he kept his eyes looking down.

“Bruce.” Clark’s voice was quiet, hesitant, as though he didn’t want to startle him and internally Bruce chuckled. _Superman to the rescue._

“Clark.”

“Want to tell me what you’re doing?”

“I’m thinking.”

“About.”

Bruce was silent for a moment. His first inclination was to stop talking, pull his cowl up and turn to Clark, and assure him he was fine. Lie to him that he was just thinking about a case. Nothing more. But another part of Bruce was so very tired.

“I’m a bad person Clark.” He heard a sharp inhale of breath but still did not turn around. He decided to be honest, finally, but he couldn’t look him in the face while he told the truth. Clark was probably his only friend, he was a man whom Bruce respected, admired even. He was a true hero.

“Of course you’re not a bad person B.” Bruce did chuckle at that, a low, sad thing.

“I am. You don’t know... But I am.”

“How?” Clark stepped closer, still slow as though not to scare him off. Bruce however was no longer looking over the edge. Even if he stepped off Superman would catch him. Instead, he sat back down and looked in front of him.

“Rachel’s alive. I lied. She’s alive, has been the whole time. Luthor resurrected her.” Clark took a deep breath and Bruce felt him sit down next to him.

“Okay, Rachel’s alive.” There was no judgment in his tone, it was purposefully neutral and for that Bruce was thankful.

“When I brought her back to the cave… I sedated her and told everyone she… A week later after her funeral, she woke up and I sent her on a mission.” Bruce clenched his fist and felt shame rise within him, but he had to keep going he had to get it out. “I hit her Clark, I hit her until she agreed to go. I forced her to go. She said no, and I just-” Bruce took a jagged breath, beside him Clark said nothing. “I can’t control the part of me that’s Batman. He’s like someone else, someone I don’t want to be. And every time he takes over it’s like I’m outside of my body and I can’t stop him from making the choices I don’t want to make. And I’m so tired of being a passenger.”

“You make it sound like you’re two different people.”

“ _We are._ ” And finally, Bruce looked up. Clark was looking at him in concern, anger simmering quietly behind his eyes, but overridden by the need to comfort. “It’s not like Two-Face, and it’s not like one minute I’m him and the next I’m me. But I feel him creep up on me and slowly he takes over my voice and my body, but not my thoughts. When I was first starting out, I chalked it up to the mask. When I put the cowl up I became Batman and Batman can’t afford to be emotional, not when lives were on the line. But my kids I - I became attached… he saw that as a liability, and now he’s taking over everything.”

“Bruce… Have you told anyone this?”

“No.” Clark got a pinched look on his face, one that told Bruce he was worried. “I’m not going to lie I’m disappointed in you and you messed up. You really messed up Bruce but… this seems like a bigger issue, you need to talk to someone.” Bruce scoffed and Clark shook his head. “I’m serious Bruce, it’s not healthy. For you… or your kids.” Bruce looked away again, this time in irritation.

“I’m not choosing to be like this Clark, I’m suffering too.”

“I know. But your suffering does not excuse your cruelty.” Clark said it with so much fierceness that Bruce flinched. “This is a bigger issue Bruce, you have something going on that’s been tormenting you and I’m sorry that you haven’t felt like you could talk to anyone about it before this point. But… your issues may explain your actions but it doesn’t excuse them. You should know that better than anyone. Look at the people we fight, every single one of them has gone through something tragic but they _decided_ to be bad, they decided to not get help.”

“I don’t know how to be better, I don’t know how to stop.” Bruce felt weak admitting it, but he had already gotten this far. “What if I get help and nothing changes, what if this is just who I am?”

“Trying means more than succeeding Bruce, show that you’re giving an effort, show that you’re trying to be better.”

“And if I fail?”

“Then you apologize and try again next time.”

“And if they don’t accept my apology?” Clark was quiet for a moment, he turned his gaze away from Bruce and looked out at the concrete sea in front of him.

“You don’t get to decide what hurts people Bruce, and you can’t force them to forgive you. You can only provide them with reasons to want to. And if they don’t ever want to… you have to respect that.” That was not what Bruce wanted to hear, he didn’t want to hear about how he might never be able to fix this. He didn’t want to hear that he might have broken things too much. He felt Clark’s hand wrap around his shoulder. “You still have me Bruce… I’m mad at you I’m not going to lie, and I’m not going to tell you everything will be ok but… your my friend and you always will be my friend… even when your an ass.” Bruce huffed out a breath of amusement letting a small amount of relief rush over him. Pulling himself up he stepped back away from the edge and turned to face Clark head-on.

“I need to go to the cave the others found out and...they’re not pleased. I need to fix this.” Superman nodded and smiled gently lifting up his arms.

“Need a ride?” Bruce rolled his eyes and pulled out his grappling gun, pulling his cowl back down he let his voice drop down to a deep gravel.

“No.” With a shrug, Superman lowered his arms and watched as Bruce walked over to the opposite ledge. Just as he was about to jump Clark spoke again.

“I’m not saying now, and I”m not saying tomorrow but...maybe it’s time to give up Batman.” Bruce tensed at the suggestion, his initial reaction to say no, but Clark continued. “When you started you were alone but now? The others exist, so does the League. You have given Gotham everything. Maybe more than you should have. Give yourself some peace...give your family some.” After a long moment, Bruce nodded.

“I’ll think about it.”

************************************************************************

“You’re cheating.”

“I’m not cheating.”

“Yes, you are. Shame on you, cheating on an injured woman.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re just not good at this game?” Rachel rolled her eyes and picked up her newly delt hand.

“Have you ever considered not cheating?” Tiger bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling as he looked down at his hand. He was sitting on a chair next to her bed playing with a pile of coins that sat on her blanket. Rachel was cross-legged on top of her blanket, her back leaning gently into the pillows propped up behind her. The two had been playing poker for half an hour and Rachel was not winning.

“Do you have any ones?”

“Wrong game.

“You’re supposed to say _go fish_.” At this Tiger did laugh and Rachel felt smug at her ability to break him. “I knew you thought I was funny.” This time Tiger rolled his eyes flipping five cards over onto the bed, Rachel looked down at them quickly before looking back at her own hand, suppressing a groan of dismay as she did so.”

“You’re not funny, maybe I just feel bad for you.”

“If it takes getting shot to make you laugh at my jokes then maybe I should do it more often.” Her words were casual but Tiger looked up sharply unamused. Painting on an innocent look she tilted her head in mock confusion “Too soon?”

“You have a morbid sense of humor.” With a shrug, Rachel tossed a few coins into the pot.

“Most vigilantes do, everyone’s so traumatized that they just make terrible jokes to cope. You learn to get used to it. Unless your Superman, but he doesn’t count since he’s like if a golden retriever turned into an alien.”

“An interesting analogy.” Rachel looked up to see Matron leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and a look of amusement on her face. Rachel smiled back and held up her card.

“Hiya Boss, want to be dealt in? Fair warning, Tony over here is a cheater.” Matron smirked at the nickname and entered the room.

“Unfortunately Minos requires Agent One’s presence, I’ve come to collect him.” Rachel raised an eyebrow.

“You know they’ve invented these really cool things, they’re small and shaped like a rectangle and let you call people from anywhere!” Matron chuckled as Tiger began clearing up their card game.

“I am well aware of the technological marvel that is the cell phone. I also came to check-in to see how you were doing?” Rachel felt warmth at the care. She had been embarrassed when she had first broken down in front of Matron but the woman had been kind and understanding in ways Rachel appreciated. _It’s nice being around people who aren’t emotionally constipated._

“I’m doing well Matron thank you. I’ll be out of here and bothering everyone again before you know it.” With a pleased nod, Matron began to back out of the room.

“Glad to hear it Agent 37, our team is far too quiet without you around.” Tiger snorted.

“I think the word you’re looking for is _peaceful_.” Rachel swatted at his hand and Matron chuckled once more before leaving the two alone. She handed Tiger her two cards and watched as he placed them back into the deck. After a moment he stood up, a hesitant look on his face. “If you like I can return after dinner… that is if you wouldn’t mind the company. If you’d rather be alone-”

“I don’t mind the company.” Tiger’s smile was soft and Rachel felt the warmth return. “Thank you, for coming so often, I’m sure you must have better things to do than hang out in the infirmary all day.” After another moment of hesitation, Tiger leaned down closer to her.

“I assure you, it has not been a chore.” Placing a small kiss on her forward he stood back up and made his way out the door before Rachel could respond, closing it gently behind him. Rachel felt a wider smile come onto her face and covering her mouth with her hand she grinned into it.

“That was adorable.” Turning her head she saw Midnighter on her window sill, a shit-eating grin on his face. Rachel lounged for her panic button but Midnighter leaped over her and seized her hand. Opening her mouth to yell she felt his gloved hand cover it instantly. “Calm down I’m not here to kill you, I’m here to warn you.” Confusion washed over Rachel and after a moment Midnighter released his hand from her mouth.

“What do you mean ‘to warn me’?” Midnighter sat down at Tigers’ now empty chair and kicked his legs up on her bed.

“I had a lovely conversation with your family, they reached out to the Garden to let us know that you’re undercover.”

“My family?” That didn’t make sense, they all thought Rachel was dead.

“Yeah, Six angry Bats all dressed in copious amounts of leather. All foaming at the mouths at the fact that you were forced to go undercover. The Garden and the League have an understanding, a partnership, so the Gardner was very interested to hear about the hero turned spy.” Midnighter leaned closer to Rachel, a gloved hand coming up to grip her chin, and Rachel stilled at the touch. “But here’s the thing Sweetheart, you don’t seem like a Double Agent to me.” Rachel pulled away from the man with a glare.

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know that Daddy made you take this job to spy on Spyral. I know you were forced to leave Gotham. But here’s the thing, you have agency, from here on out everything is your decision. Not the Bats.”

“And your point is?” Midnighter dug into his jacket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, pulling one out he stuffed it into his mouth before returning the packet back into his pocket. Rachel waited as he searched for a lighter. Once the cigarette was burning he took a deep breath and blew the smoke towards the open window.

“The point is. If the Gardner decides you’re playing for Spyral and not the Bats, she’s going to bring you down with the rest of the Agents.” Rachel felt irritation at the threat and raised an eyebrow defiantly.

“So what? I’m just supposed to play the hero?” Midnighter laughed.

“Kid, I don’t believe in heroes. Maybe Spyrals good, maybe they’re bad, you get to decide that. I’ve decided that the Garden is right. Not good, not bad, _but right_. And guess what? I might be wrong and if I am I will deal with those consequences because I made my choice. You get to make one too. Just don’t wait too long before you do. There’s nothing I hate more than someone who doesn’t stand for something.”

“What if I decide to stand with Spyral?” Rachel felt guilty almost as soon as she said it, but the question was out there. Midnighter took another drag before answering.

“Then be willing to fall for them too. As much as the Leaguers would like to believe it, there aren’t just villains and heroes in the world. There are people who truly believe they’re doing the right thing even if the heroes don’t agree with them. So if you believe in Spyral stand with them. Just know that when the battle occurs you won’t be treated with kindness just because you _used_ to be a Bat.” Midnighter stood up, cigarette still in his mouth as he made his way to the window.

“What are you going to tell the Gardner?” Midnighter paused, a calculating look on his face. And once again Rachel thought it looked as though he was thinking through a thousand possibilities at once.

“....As of right now you’re undercover and you’re still feeding info to the Bats. For now, you’re not a threat. We’ll be watching to see if that changes.” Midnighter swung a foot over the window ledge and gave her a quick wave before disappearing over the side. For a moment Rachel just sat there thinking.

 _Do I truly believe that Spyral is good?_ She thought of Matron and Tiger, the kindness they had shown her. How they seemed to understand her. She thought of the friends she was making in Agent 24 and Doctor Poppy. How she felt at home here And then she thought about the killing, going against the League. Was she really willing to do that? Her siblings now knew she was alive, they could bring her home. Didn’t she want that?

Bruce’s stoic face flashed in her mind, staring down at her as she lay on the cave floor. Anger simmering behind his eyes. A stark juxtaposition to Tiger softly kissing her forehead moments ago. Reaching out her hand she pushed the panic button on the side of her bed and instantly a nurse came busting into her room.

“I need you to call Matron, I just had a visitor that I think she’d like to know about.”

************************************************************************

A quiet knock came from his office door and looking up Minos pushed the stack of paper he was reading to the side.

“Come in.” The door opened and Poppy stepped in, a small file in her hands. “Dr. Ashemoore a pleasure to see you again. I do hope you have some good news for me?” The women smiled and came over to his desk, handing him the folder. Flipping it open Minos first saw a picture of Rachel Grayson in surgery, a small rounded desk implanted behind her right ear.

“The Hypnosis Implants have been successfully installed into Agent 37. And the safety switch has been tested and is fully functional.”

“The code-word?”

“‘Tsuchigumo’ to knock her unconscious, and ‘Rasen’ to activate her sleeper agent. If need be.” Minos nodded.

“Very good. And Ms. Grayson?”

“Is aware of the identity protection implant, if she turns the implant clockwise it will activate her face spiral.” Minos smiled, though his own face still remained obscured by his own implant.

“Very good, thank you Dr. Ashemoore. Your work as always is impeccable.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.  
> Hello everyone! I just wanted to say thank you again for your kind comments, I’m so happy you guys have been enjoying the story so far! 
> 
> Damian (Shadow): 28  
> Barbara (Oracle, OG Batgirl): 29  
> Tim (Knight, previously Batboy): 24  
> Stephanie (Spoiler): 22  
> Cass (Black Bat): 22  
> Jason (Red Hood, previously Batboy): 21  
> Rachel (Robin): 18

The red glare from the stoplight hit the wet pavement and reflected back onto the car’s windshield as Alfred waited for the light to turn. The rain had stopped almost as quickly as it had started, leaving the air cold and slightly foggy. The streets were clear, it was far too late for anyone to be out, even those with less than honorable intentions. Any meanders had been driven inside by the rain, a quiet night was rare in Gotham but not unheard of. And Alfred found he was grateful for the solitude as he made his way deeper into the city. Grateful for the chance to think.

The night had started like any other. Batman had suited up and left for patrol late in the evening. Leaving Alfred to finish cleaning the dishes from the solitary dinner he had prepared for Master Bruce earlier. A comm sat in his ear, a soothing and constant thrumming noise only broken by the occasional voice. He had learned long ago that if he hadn’t had access to the comms he would not be able to concentrate on his tasks. Too consumed with worry to do anything but fret. The only strange thing had been the absence of his other charges. Though it’s true each of them had been spending less and less time in the manor over the years, for the last month someone had always been home. Grief had a funny way of bringing people together, making the absence of their lost loved one even more obvious.

When Oracle had requested Batman’s presence at the clock tower Alfred had thought nothing of it. He had no reason to believe something was the matter, had no reason to believe that something was wrong.

His first clue had been when Batman had come home. It was early, too early for Master Bruce to end patrol, even on a quiet night he tended to stay out for at least another two hours. But the man came back, and without a word sat down at the computer and waited. Just waited. He didn’t type, didn’t speak, he did nothing but sit. Alfred had known Master Bruce his entire life, and though he had always been stoic and somewhat reserved, he never did _nothing_. He never stopped. Alfred had tried to speak to him, tried to coax him out of his stewing. But after receiving no acknowledgment the man gave up and instead boiled a fresh pot of tea.

When he came back down the others were back, and that was his second clue that something was wrong.

Some would claim that Alfred was psychic, that he was omnipotent even. That of course was a frivolous and outrageous accusation. Alfred was a man and nothing more. And while he wasn’t a detective he knew the power of observation. It was a skill he had sharpened over many decades and with one glance he could tell if something was amiss. Miss Casandra spoke the language of bodies, but Alfred read faces. And there was one look shared on every one of his charges faces, everyone except Master Bruce who remained in his chair. Back to Alfred.

The look was one of betrayal.

Master Jason had been the one to tell him. Sweet boy, kind man. The words were quiet but could be clearly heard throughout the cave.

“Rachels alive Alfred. Bruce… He lied to us, this whole time he... He forced her to go undercover and fake her death.”

“Forced?”

“He hurt her Alfred, he… God… he beat her.” Alfred’s stomach dropped but his own face did not change, did not twitch.

“Ahh.” He looked over to Master Bruce who still did not turn to face him. He looked over to the others who were also turned away, allowing him and Master Jason privacy. Then he turned his gaze back to the boy in front of him. Green eyes swirling with a pain that hurt Alfred’s soul.

“I assume that you will be working on bringing her back to us?” Master Jason nodded. “Do you require any immediate assistance from myself?” He shook his head. “Very well, if you will excuse me.” He turned away from the group and walked up the staircase leading to the Manor. Shutting the GrandFather clock behind him just as the others began to speak, no doubt coming up with a plan. And then he walked outside, got in a car, and just drove.

The driving had not been aimless. He was not a spontaneous man, he had a purpose for every action he made. No, he had a goal, a destination in mind. The destination came into view as he made a left turn into a dark alleyway and parked next to a small gray building. Stepping out of the car he locked the doors behind him unworried. Gotham alleyways were not the safest places to be, but only fools wreaked havoc around the clinic.

The clinic was quiet. It was open of course but no one sat in the waiting room. There were no cries, no shouts, no frantic family members or frightened teens. And so Alfred quietly made his way down the hall, passing empty exam rooms and stopping in front of a shut door with warm yellow light spilling under its gap. Raising his hand he tapped twice and waited as the person on the other side moved forward.

Dr. Thompkins opened the door and raised an eyebrow in surprise at the sight of him. Her light blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck and her dark-rimmed glasses were perched at the edge of her nose. The wrinkles around her eyes were stretched in exhaustion, longing for an end to the long night. But still, she smiled and moved out of the way.

“Alfred, it’s been a while since you’ve come into the clinic. Usually, I only get visits from our friends in leather.” Stepping into the room he smiled at her non-question. _What are you doing here?_ Was the subtext, though she was far too polite to be so blunt.

“I must admit, I have found myself at a loss.” He followed her to her desk and sat down on the green chair in front of it. She moved to a small portable stovetop in the corner of the room and clicked it on, checking the old kettle on top of it for water before setting it down to boil.

“At a loss? That’s unlike you.” Pulling two teacups from the shelf she sat both on the desk. Opening a small drawer she pulled out two tea bags and set one into each cup. Sitting down in her own chair she took off her glasses, concern shining on her face. “At a loss for what?” It was like a string was cut, and the usual decorum that graced Alfred vanished. He didn’t slump, he didn’t believe his back would allow him to do anything but sit straight after so many years of discipline. And even when distressed Alfred was poised. But it was like a switch flipped and ‘ _Alfred the Butler_ ’ turned into ‘ _Alfred a very tired old man_ ’. The concern on Leslie’s face grew and she sat forward in her seat. “What happened?”

“I do believe that I have failed him Leslie.” There was no question who _him_ was. The two had practically raised Master Bruce together, had been one another’s confidant throughout the years. If Alfred was the family’s rock then Leslie was his.

“Where is this coming from? What happened?”

“Miss Rachel is alive. She has been alive this whole time.” Leslie took in a deep breath and bowed her head. Alfred paused, almost unwilling to continue. “I do not know all the details but it is my understanding that Master Bruce sent her on a mission... He hurt her again Leslie, Master Jason did not say how badly, only that she was... beat.”

“Jesus.” The word was soft and immediately covered by the loud whistling of the kettle which pierced the room. Scrambling Leslie stood up and moved the kettle off the top, shutting the heat off she poured the water into the two cups. Setting the kettle back down, she turned back to him. “Did he say anything?”

“No. He didn’t look at me. I’m not sure how the others found out but I take it that it was not a pleasant discovery for anyone.”

“And is Rachel okay?” Alfred closed his eyes at the question, heartbreaking at the thought of the girl out there alone. With no way to know if she was safe.

“I do not know.” Despite what the others claimed Alfred did not have favorites. He truly loved all his charges and was grateful that he had somehow been allowed to be part of each of their lives. Grateful that he had been able to raise them. But Rachel’s death had hurt the family deeply. She had been the youngest of course but more than that, she had been the light.

Damian had been an angry child, so much like Bruce even if neither wanted to admit it. He did not scream or yell, but he had a quick tongue that stung like a blade. He had utilized it as a way to protect himself, had not been raised to believe in the good of others. He had been taught that people were cruel. People only wanted others to use, not for companionship. Love was a weakness, love was a lie. Alfred had worked with him tirelessly, had made sure he understood that the Manor was his home and he was safe within its walls. Damian had softened with the arrival of his siblings, but he would always expect people to disappoint him.

Timothy had been easier in some ways and more difficult in others. He had not been angry but he had been detached. Much as Damian had weaponized his arrogance Timothy had weaponized distance. He had been taught that people were selfish. That love was an obligation and not a privilege. He grew up alone, cold and analytical. A scientist in many ways, observing life as one would observe an experiment. Without any warmth. Alfred had worked with him as well, praise and words of affirmation were given freely. Alfred had made sure that Timothy understood you did not have to buy love, did not have to earn it. He had given his own love to his siblings easily, but Timothy would always leave some distance, just in case people decided he was no longer worth the effort.

Jason had been terrified. He hid it with a shield of anger, hid it with his fists and curses. But he was so very frightened. He had been taught that people could love, but that love was not always enough. After all his Mother had loved him, but not enough to get clean. His Father had claimed to love them, but not enough to not beat him. The price of love was pain, it was hurt. And even if you paid it, it could leave. Leave him alone on the street hungry and cold. Alfred had tried to show him that true love was a soft hand and not a tight fist. Had taught him that love was powerful and beautiful. The boy had loved literature, more than any of his other charges. And so love was taught through language. Shakespeare spoke of how beautiful it truly was, of how wonderful it could be. And Jason became less frightened, but he still knew that the world was not always as kind as it should be.

Cassandra had been a mixture of the three. She had been taught that people were split into two categories. There were those who were to be taken advantage of and there were those who did the taking. She was taught nothing of love, not that it was weak or painful. She only ever knew herself as a tool, something to be used. And when Alfred had taught her that she was a human, a person with the ability to love and to be loved, she was terrified and angry and distant. And then she was fierce. She was protective. Her family became her everything. And she never worried how the world could hurt her, she worried about how it could hurt _them_.

But Rachel had not been like any of her siblings. She had been taught that love was a gift that she could give to others. That a kind word cost nothing, and that kind people were what made life worth living. She came to the manor saddened by her parent’s death but not broken by it. She was small but so very strong. She laughed constantly and wormed her way into the darkest of hearts. She believed that people had the potential to be good, she believed that people could change. If the Joker’s motto had been ‘It only takes one bad day’ then Rachels was ‘It only takes one kind word’. She had taught Alfred how hope had just as much power as vengeance. And Alfred had helped raise her.

And Bruce had so easily struck her down again. And once again Alfred had not been able to protect her from it.

He felt a warm hand wrap around his wrist and looking up he saw Leslie staring down at him. A knowing look in her eye.

“You said you failed Bruce…. Alfred this isn’t your fault. Bruce is an adult, he makes his own choices. You did the best you could when raising him. You did everything you could.” Grabbing his tea, he took a sip while he thought about how to share what was on his mind.

“I have only ever wanted him to be happy. I have tried… When he was a child I took him to a therapist. We went out, we did things, I gave him all the love I could. I knew it wouldn’t be enough, how could it be? I was just his Butler.” Leslie glared at that.

“You’re more than that, and you know it.” Alfred lifted a placating hand.

“I _became_ more than that. But he lost his parents and at first, I was just someone who _had_ to take care of him. And then he turned eighteen and just disappeared, left without a word to me or anyone.”

“That was selfish of him. Not him leaving, he needed that. But to just leave you without even a note...” Alfred smiled sadly.

“And yet still I loved him. Then he came home and he became a vigilante, and I knew I couldn’t talk him out of it, so I tried to help him. But then Damian arrived and he was still selfish but at least he tried. Then Timothy came and he began to change, to love. Heal one might say.” Leslie nodded, sitting back down in her seat, sipping her own tea.

“But then Jason died.”

“With Jason’s death, it’s like he remembered what he _could_ lose and thought little of what he _had_.” Leslie looked off as though remembering that time from several years ago.

“He got mean. Became more violent. And then Damian stopped by with Rachel who had a black eye and -” She shook her head. “I thought he learned his lesson after that.”

“Bruce dislikes lack of control. That’s why he became better after Damian took her away, he saw a loss of control within him. That’s why he clings too tightly to Batman. He can do things Bruce Wayne can not.”

“Batman has more control, more power.” Alfred nodded “Maybe Batman has too much control. Over everyone, even over Bruce.” Alfred took another sip of tea, already feeling guilt at what he was about to say.

“I hate Batman. I despise him and his war. I loath that the children have become his soldiers and I hate that he is corroding and blackening Bruce’s soul. I love Bruce certainly, but it is becoming harder and harder. And I do not know where I failed him. I do not know where I went so wrong that he is becoming this.” Leslie took a deep breath and leaned back into her chair. The two sat in silence for a moment.

It is not often you get a chance to reflect upon your life. But when you do sometimes it leads to the dreaded thought _How did I get here from there?_ We start as blank slates. New and pink and breathing with hope, even if we do not know what the word hope means yet. And then slowly, moment by moment and year by year, something chips away at our hope. At our souls. And you wonder, _how much of this was my doing and how much of this was done to me?_ Do I have any control over who I become or am I forced to watch myself morph into a being I don’t recognize? And what is the power I hold over someone else’s life? What responsibility do I have over a loved one’s choices?

Finally, Leslie looked up, her face showing every bit of her age. Alfred had no doubt that his looked the same.

“You did everything you could. I’m not saying you did everything right, no one is perfect, not even you.” She smiled gently at this. “Loving someone can be hard. Bruce made his choices and only he can live with them. You can only do what you think is right. That’s all anyone can do.” _A man will have his regrets, but a man must also know when something is out of his control._ Thinking for a moment, Alfred took the last sip of his tea before standing up.

“As always Dr. Thompkins you have been a sage advisor, one whom I greatly appreciate.” Smiling Leslie stood and walked him to the door.

“As always Mr. Pennyworth it is my pleasure.” Just as they were about to reach the door Leslie stopped. Hesitant for a moment. “Alfred… Regardless of what happens, it’s not up to you to take responsibility for anyone, not even Bruce. You constantly live for others, take care of yourself as well. I know Rachel’s death was difficult for you. Do not push aside your own problems just to comfort others.” Straightening his jacket, Alfred gave Leslie a long look before grabbing the doorknob.’

“I’m a butler Dr. Thompkins, taking care of others is what I do.”

************************************************************************

Everyone was so very loud.

Not verbally. After Alfred had left Bruce had given them all his information on Rachel and Spyral, and now everyone was tucked away in various corners of the room reading over the case. But physically? The noise was giving Cass a headache and she wanted to close her eyes for a moment of respite. Her brother’s bodies were screaming out in collective anguish. Each movement and twitch laying a roadmap to their pain, and Cass was the only one who could read them.

Jason was the loudest, he always had been, even before he died.

The pit had left its mark, obviously in the white streak through his hair and the soured green in his eyes. But also in the tension sitting in the curve of his shoulder, never hunched over but always alert for an attack. His hands always twitched, a little and sporadically without a specific rhythm, but they were always moving. As though remembering how they had been used to claw their way out of the ground. Those were constant shows of his pain, and though Cass despised both she recognized them. With the newest revelation, there were new signs. His jaw was tensed, so tight that Cass feared it would lock, obviously that was anger. His neck was up straight and quivering, his head pulled back instead of jutting forward, that was worry. Instead of standing squarely, he had put a little more weight on his left foot, not enough to cause him to lean, but more than he usually put. That told Cass he was thinking deeply, and that his thoughts weren’t good. But his eyes, his eyes said the most. They were still, usually, they darted across the room, always on alert, now they were fixed. He was scared.

Tim was the opposite of Jason, he was quiet in ways that had unnerved Cass when they first met.

His body was often curled in on itself, withdrawn, as though he was trying to take up as little room as possible. But that was all he gave her, and that in itself screamed out everything Cass needed to know. Tim did not shut down when upset, but he did turn off. He became neutral, truly neutral, a blank slate. His body wasn’t tense or relaxed. He didn’t fidget or sit too still. And he didn’t let an ounce of what he was feeling leak through. He was robotic, doing what he had to do, without any flair or humanity. When they had first met Cass had read him as a threat, more so than Bruce. She had nothing to work with, nothing to use against him if need be. Over the years he had softened, had become bolder. A quick tip of the head when he was thinking. His lips turning up on the left told Cass he was amused, quirking on the right told her he was hurt but didn’t want to show it. If he sat with one foot up on his chair he was tired, both feet up he was happy, and legs crossed he was focused. Because of these hints over the years, his blankness spoke volumes. He was lost, he was overwhelmed, he was hurt and didn’t know how to process it.

Cass couldn’t see Damian from where she was sitting but she had a good idea of what he would look like. Poised, the picture of elegance and high brow society. When he felt out of control he would revert to lessons learned earlier in life. Grace and balance equated to power. If you had absolute control over your body you could control anything. When he was happy he was still put together but he was not rigid. He relinquished his control. He would allow himself to be pulled one way or another, would allow an undignified snort and a quirk of the eyebrow to shine through. His outbreak earlier had rattled him however. And so now he was most likely wearing a nonchalant facade. Cass didn’t need to see his body right now to know he was hurt, to see that he was frightened. She had heard the truth spoken from his own mouth. Cass rarely put much stock in words, but in the clocktower her brother’s body and voice were working in tandem. Everything he had said was the truth, and she had felt warmth over his protectiveness.

And then there was Bruce.

She had always been able to read her Father. That was why she often got along with him better than the others. She understood him. When they had first met he had seemed so incredibly tall and frightening. He took up space unapologetically and she had immediately been reminded of Cain. But then he took off his mask and she realized the two were not the same. He was not poised but he was sturdy, as though afraid that if his feet weren’t planted he would be knocked over. His hands often twitched in hesitation, as though he longed to reach out to someone but was afraid of rejection and so held back. His face was drawn, and when he smiled he always seemed surprised by it. As though he couldn’t believe he was allowed to be happy. And he had been gentle, especially when any of them were hurt.

She had seen his regret, had seen the self-hatred after Jason died. And she pitied him when Damian had taken her and Rachel away. She had understood it was necessary but still she had not seen Bruce as a threat. She still didn’t, not looking at him now sitting in his chair, the picture of defeat. He was confusing sometimes, when he was Batman he was sure and confident. But when he was Bruce he always questioned himself, always seemed to regret his choices, and seemed at a loss for how to fix them. Looking at him now, Cass did not see him as a threat.

But watching him attack Rachel? That had made Cass afraid.

Afraid because he had so easily hurt her family. Had so easily destroyed her sister and lied to them. She had no doubt that Bruce regretted his actions now, but in the video he seemed to think they were justified. And Cass didn’t know what to do.

Her only mission in life was to protect her family. That was her only goal, the only reason she went out each night as Black Bat. She had empathy for the people she saved, and she was happy to help. But if her family was not out there risking their lives she would not be either. But how do you protect your family from your Father? How can you help one member if it hurts another?

Cass didn’t know what to do, and she was so very mad at Bruce.

Mad that he had destroyed everything, that he had upset everyone. Mad that he had promised to keep her safe when he took her in, promised that he would never hurt her as Cain had. Only to turn around and hurt Rachel instead. What made Rachel different from the rest of them? Bruce had never raised his hand to any of the others to her knowledge so why Rachel? _Was it because he thought he could get away with it? Was it because he thought he needed to? Was it just bad luck?_

Cass hated uncertainty, she hated not knowing the answers and she hated that she was forced to ask these questions. And she was struck by the unfairness of it all.

When she had been young the concept of a parent was foreign to her. Someone who loved and cared for you? She did not have that. Cain had made her, but he hadn’t raised her. But then Bruce had come along and she suddenly had a Father, and she realized just what she had been missing. A confidant, a rock, someone who had to love you even when you made mistakes. Someone who knew every part of you, someone who you didn’t have to pretend around. And Cass didn’t know what to do because she didn’t know how to forgive Bruce for what he had done. But she didn’t want to lose her only parent. But it also felt unfair to Rachel to even consider forgiving him. After all, he had hurt _her_ not Cass.

When Jason had died, and Damian had taken them to live at the Penthouse something had changed between the two girls. Damian and Tim had morphed away from siblings into caretakers, and Jason was gone and suddenly it was just the two of them. Alone and grieving, and reeling from the sudden change. And much like now, Cass had been angry. Had quit her dance lessons, had refused to go back to school or go out on patrol. She had locked herself away from the others, alone in her room. She hadn’t been able to save her brother, she hadn’t been able to save Jason or help Bruce. And everything that had happened felt like her fault.

Rachel had been grieving as well, but only silently. Cass could hear her crying softly at night. Could see the glassiness in her eyes, and the strain around her ever-present smile. But she still tried, still laughed. Would still sit with Cass for hours, working on homework and chatting amicably even though Cass would never respond back. She would pull up ballets and musicals on her laptop and play them for Cass while she read. Cass never cared much for the singing, but the movement was mesmerizing. And when Cass couldn’t deal with anyone and would lock her door in an attempt to keep everyone out, Rachel would sit in the hallway and would just talk. About anything and everything. About her day, her friends, a new move Damian had taught her or something embarrassing Tim had done. Then she would talk about Jason. Voice growing tighter in sorrow but also warmth. And somehow that helped.

One day, almost a month after they had moved in with Damian Rachel had come home from school and went immediately into her room. That in itself was strange, as usually, she would spend the afternoon with Cass before dinner. The apartment felt so quiet, it unnerved her enough that she finally inched out of her own room and walked across the hall. Tapping lightly on her sister’s door.

Rachel said nothing, again a red flag, and so Cass reached for the doorknob and gently pushed it open. Her sister was sitting on the floor, arms curled around her legs and head pressed into her knees. She made no sound, not a whimper or a sniffle, and she didn’t look up when Cass entered. Cass was at a loss, she had never seen her sister like this. Rachel's body was vibrant, the muscles laughed when they moved and flew with a lightness none of her other siblings had. But now, her body was tired and hopeless. Coming forward, Cass sat down next to her and pulled her into her side. She didn’t say anything, didn’t offer any words of comfort but eventually, Rachel looked up. Cass had been expecting tears, but instead, Rachel’s face was dry and pulled in wild despair.

“What did I do wrong?” Cass wasn’t sure what she meant and so she tilted her head in confusion. “What did I do wrong with Bruce? Did I say something, or do something. I keep thinking about it and I can’t figure it out. And now everyone hates him because of me. But what if it was _my_ fault?” Angry. Cass was angry. She moved in front of Rachel and took her face in her hands. Directing her sister to look her in the eye. Cass wasn’t one for words, but Rachel was, and she would say anything to comfort her sister.

“You did nothing. This is not on you. Bruce… Bruce may be broken. This is his problem to fix. Not yours.” Rachel still seemed conflicted and so Cass pushed forward. “You are family, I.. we will protect you from anyone who hurts you. Even Bruce.”

“But Bruce is family too.” Rachel pointed out. “Who will protect him?” Cass thought hard for a moment.

“He is family yes, but that does not mean he can just do what he pleases. If he wants to be in our family he must work for it. When we came to the manor we trusted him, he has broken that trust, he must be the one to earn it back.”

The memory seemed fresh even though it occurred several years ago and turning to Bruce, still sitting in the chair, Cass had to wonder. _Did he ever earn that trust back, or did we just blindly give it to him?_ A small warm hand wrapped itself around her shoulder and looking up she saw Steph smiling down at her. Stephanie was not like her siblings; she was loud but not like Jason. Her loudness was shrouded in warmth, she did not give her trust freely, but she was not marred by the evils in her past. Rachel had called her the ‘normal’ one of the family. Her loudness was like firecrackers on the 4th of July, safe and vibrant.

“We got some information on where Rachel may be going next, we’re regrouping to come up with a plan.” Nodding with a small smile, Cass followed the blonde back to the others who were now clustered over by the bat computer. She caught Damian’s eye who was looking at her in worry, a silent question on his face. _Are you alright?_ She gave him a quick nod before turning her attention to Tim. Who had taken Bruce’s seat at the computer and was pulling a map up on the screen.

“The Israeli peace protest in Tel-Aviv, that’s where Spyral and by extension, Rachel is going to be.” Jason stepped forward, peering at the map.

“How do we know this?” Oracles voice filled the cave, and the computer screen switched to a report curated by God’s Garden.

“We received word from Midnight. Apparently, a cult going by the name ‘The Fist of Cain’ is planning to attack the protest with one of the Paragon Parts. God’s Garden is also letting the information slip to Spyral. Partly to get their assistance to prevent the attack, partly to give us an opportunity to speak with Rachel.” Jason looked up at the speakers Oracle was speaking from in confusion.

“Why would they help us?” He had a point, to Cass’s knowledge the Garden co-existed with the League but rarely partnered with them.

“They want our help in procuring the Paragon part before Spyral can take it. They’ve already lost three implants to Spyral, they don’t want to lose a fourth.” Jason nodded accepting the answer.

“Well then, I guess we’re going to Israel.”

************************************************************************

When Mister Minos had asked Rachel to join him in her office she had expected to talk about the Paragon Protocol or even the unexpected visit from Midnighter. So when the man had set down a mug of tea and gently asked her how she was doing she was perplexed. Not because Minos was unkind, but because outside of her arrival, and a few brief interactions, she hadn’t actually spoken to the man much. After all, the man was the head of a spy organization and Rachel’s team was just one small part of Spyral. Nonetheless, she accepted the tea and answered him with a small smile.

“I’m doing well Mister Minos, thank you.”

“Good, good. I trust that Agent 1 and Matron have been suitable instructors? I know your previous mentor’s teaching style must have been quite different.” Rachel snorted at that.

“A bit of an understatement. They’ve been great, and I must admit it’s been nice to train in an actual gym as opposed to underground in a cave.”

“A cave?” Rachel flushed, she had not meant to speak so casually. Minos must have noticed her hesitance and shook his head. “You do not have to say anything you don’t want to Rachel. I asked you down here just to chat, not to interrogate you about your family. I was merely surprised.” It was still strange having people who knew her family’s identities, strange not to be hiding parts of her.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just still not used to not having a secret identity you know?” Minos nodded.

“I imagine it’s quite freeing. I only recently took on the alias of Minos and I already find it quite..draining.” Rachel was surprised at this.

“I wasn’t aware that Minos was a pseudonym.” Minos laughed.

“Surely you didn’t think I was born with the name and a spiral on my face.” Rachel suppressed a grin, she hadn’t not thought that. “Being the head of this agency has many perks and has allowed me to help people in many ways. But it has also given me many enemies. I would risk my life for Spyral, I would not however risk my family.”

“ _You_ have a family?” The question was said incredulously and only when it was spoken did Rachel realize how rude it sounded. _Alfred would not be impressed._ Luckily Minos simply laughed again.

“Indeed I do. Not quite as large as yours but I have a sister and two nephews… I am very protective of them as you can imagine.” Rachel nodded, thinking of her own siblings. Despite all that had happened between her and Bruce, she would do anything for the others. “I do not get to see them often I’m afraid, but when I do it gives me comfort knowing I can take off my mask without fear that I am putting them in danger.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Minos paused and took a sip from his own mug, a strange sight as Rachel still couldn’t see his mouth.

“I know you were sent here undercover. But please remember this is a job, not a prison sentence. I know you must be going through things I can’t even imagine. You must feel conflicted, or that you are betraying your family working for us. But they are still your family, you are allowed to speak with them, regardless if you are spying on us or not.” Rachel could hear the amusement in his voice when he said the last bit.

“Aren’t you mad, that I’ve told Batman things?” Minos shook his head.

“He is your family, and he was very clearly manipulating you. We saw the tapes Rachel. It’s clear he was an abusive man. It is difficult to escape the hold he can have on you. And more importantly, we are not the bad guys. There is no shame in what Spyral is trying to accomplish, we have nothing to hide.” Minos paused for a moment, as though considering his next words. “Rachel, I have seen the immense strength you carry within yourself. You are a very independent woman, that is why Spyral recruited you. Not because we wanted a mindless soldier but because we wanted someone who would challenge us. It’s easy to get lost in what your mission is, we need people who are not afraid to tell us off when we do.”

“Would you have still wanted me? Even if you never saw the tapes, even if Lex Luthor hadn’t told you the Bats identities?” The question came out softer than she had intended. But Minos replied without hesitation.

“Yes. You were forced to come to us Rachel, but we will not force you to stay. I hope that you will, I can see that we are like-minded individuals. But if you choose to go I will respect that decision.” _Do I want to leave? Do I want to go back to Gotham and become another pawn for Bruce to use in his never-ending crusade? Do I want to lose my autonomy, lose my free will?_

_Do I want to leave Spyral?_

That question perhaps was the most important one. It had followed her around since Midnighter had come to her room. And the answer scared her. She liked it here, she liked her team and the missions. She liked the training and the teaching. She liked the independence. Looking back up at Minos she smiled and answered his earlier question.

“The cave was where we trained, it was our Homebase. I called it the BatCave because I was eight when I saw it, and the name just kind of stuck. It was dark and drafty and echoed, and there were always Bats flying around above, but it was too dark to see them. You could only ever hear them. When it was crowded it felt like home.”

“And when it wasn’t?” Rachel shrugged.

“It felt lonely.” Minos nodded, and Rachel had the sense that if she could see his face he would be smiling.

“Thank you for sharing that with me Rachel.” A loud knocking filled the room and Rachel turned in her seat just as Matron walked in. A look of worry on her face.

“I apologize for interrupting but we have an update on one of the Paragon parts, and need to deploy a team out quickly.” Standing up, Rachel turned to look at Minos who gave her a curt nod of dismissal. She followed Matron out into the workspace and saw Tiger already standing at the debriefing table. A holograph of a tall thin man with a severe-looking face wearing long brown robes shown on the table.

“Who is that?” Matron handed Rachel a file before she spoke.

“That is Christian Fleischer, he is the leader of the Fist of Cain, a fairly new cult that has settled in southern Italy.” Flipping open the file Rachel looked over pictures of the members before reaching a report on them.

“And he’s important because?”

“They were the ones who purchased the hard drive for the Paragon. Originally we didn’t see them as an immediate threat as the drive has no powers on its own. We were going to go after them after obtaining the other pieces.” Tiger stepped up, taking the file from Rachel’s hands.

“Why the change?” Matron changed the screen and a picture of a brain with wires flowing through it appeared.

“Apparently our initial intel was incorrect the drive isn’t actually a drive... It’s a brain.” _Gross._ “We still don’t know whose DNA is imbued within it, but we do know that the cult is planning on using it to send a psychic pulse throughout Tel-Aviv tomorrow morning during an Israeli Peace Protest.” Tiger set down the folder and took a closer look at the brain.

“And what happens if they send out the pulse?”

“It will cause members to violently attack one another in a blind rage during their peaceful protest. Completely undermining their message and causing thousands of deaths in the process. The cult plans to do this as their official debut to the world. Many reporters will be there covering the protests, and they view it as the perfect time to get coverage.” Rachel frowned, something about this didn’t make sense.

“How do we know about this? Last we knew the drive was just a drive?” Matron pulled up a new picture this time of the two Leaders, Midnighter and Dr. Leviticus.

“God’s Garden gave us the intel.” Tiger stiffened, disbelief coloring his face.

“And we’re just going to believe them? Why would they help us?”

“Technically, they view it as _us_ helping _them_. God’s is stretched thin, they are down a leader and the Gardener can not leave the base. Despite our different philosophies, the end goal is the same. To protect human life. We will be working with them to stop this attack.” Rachel looked at Matron in disbelief.

“So we’re supposed to suddenly just trust them?” Matron shot her a look at the interruption but answered regardless.

“No. We’re supposed to work with them. This peace protest has been in the works for months, and if the cult succeeds not only will it mean certain death for most of the attendees, but it will make an already uneasy political situation more volatile.” Rachel nodded, _apparently the enemy of my enemy is not my friend, they’re just another enemy. How fun._

“So what’s the plan?”

“Agent 24 and a few other field agents will be on the ground, in case things turn sour. Agent 37 and Leviticus will be teaming up to go after the leader Fleischer. Midnighter and Agent 1 will be going after the brain. It was decided that it would be better to have the teams split up, it gives us a greater chance of retrieving the brain before the Garden does.

“Wouldn’t the brain and the leader be together?” Matron shook her head and pulled up a new picture. This time of a very familiar woman.

“Lois Lane is covering the protest for the Daily Planet. The cult plans to kidnap her and her crew to debut their group to the world. Fleischer will be with her to send out his message. They won’t want the brain there because the chances of Superman arriving are very high.” Matron looked directly at Rachel. “You are the only one of us with experience dealing with Kryptonians, try to avoid any confrontation with him. As soon as you have taken care of Fleischer you are to join Agent 1 in obtaining the brain.” Matron turned off the screen and turned to look at both of them, a serious look on her face.

“Outside of stopping the cult, your priority is retrieving the brain before Garden does. We may be temporarily working together but they are still the enemy. If they get the part before us it’s over.”

************************************************************************

This plan sucked.

Here they were, in Israel, attempting to stop a terrorist attack and a cult. Saving thousands of civilians in the process. This was some Grade A spy shit. Rachel should be having the time of her life, because of how cool this all was. And she would be if she wasn’t stuck with Doctor Leviticus.

The Doctor was a strange woman and her picture hadn’t done her justice. She was only slightly taller than Rachel but she was lean. Every part of her came to a point and Rachel had to wonder when the last time she ate was? She wore a dark dress with a long neck and ruffles peaking over the collar and around the cuffs. And she looked as though she had just time-traveled a hundred years into the future. Her eyes were dark and narrow, always moving, always searching, and her cheeks were sharp, cutting back into her dark black hair which was drawn into a bun.

On her own, she would have unsettled Rachel, but it didn’t help that the women kept giving her strange looks as they made their way through the town. It was as though she was appraising her, searching for something.

Rachel tried to ignore her and instead remained focused on the crowd. Searching the cluster of reporters for the Daily Planet Crew. They had been instructed to allow the kidnapping to occur, and to follow them to the leader. Her eyes landed on Lois and she felt a flicker of guilt in her chest.

She had always been close to the Kent family. Damian and Tim had both been very close to Jon and Kon, and she had spent many weekends and summers hanging around the old Kent farm. Assisting Ma Kent with various chores inside, or helping out Pa Kent on the farm when her siblings were busy with their friends. After Damian died, and Bruce and her started fighting more she would often take the long drive to Metropolis and blow some steam off with Uncle Clark. When Clark wasn’t available she would shadow Lois at work, much to her editor's annoyance. It felt strange to be watching her like this.

She couldn’t focus on the thought for long however as she noticed a few strange men walk towards the group. Under one of their jackets, one pulled out a gun and whispered something into Lois’s ear. Lois to her credit did not startle, instead, a look of annoyance crossed her face as she and her cameraman were led away.

“It’s time.” Leviticus nodded and the two worked their way through the crowd. Weaving through the throngs of protestors, following the group as they moved towards a nondescript office building. “They’re taking them inside. Any idea who this building belongs to?”

“Our research tells us it was bought by a private investor a year ago for development purposes but the plans were put on halt due to city ordinance. It is for all intents and purposes abandoned.” _Of Course, the evil cult would choose a cliche hideout. Why can’t they ever be creative with their bases?_ Rachel nodded and the two moved to the front door of the building, pushing it open slowly.

The lobby was empty, devoid of people and things. The elevator had tape across it with the words “Out of Order” written in Hebrew. A door sat in the corner leading to the stairs.

“Any idea how many floors we’re looking at?” Leviticus pulled out a tablet, the technology looking out of place in her hands. She scanned it for a moment before answering.

“Twelve. Our sensors found a heat signature on the top floor when we were looking over the area before you arrived. They are likely taking her there.” _They probably want a nice view of the chaos below._ She looked over at Leviticus, taking in her dress.

“You good to take the stairs?” The woman blinked for a moment before grinning, the look was strange on her face, unnatural.

“I can assure you Gray Son, I can handle myself just fine.” The infliction on her name was strange, the woman splitting the one word into two. Rachel did not comment however and headed to the stairs. Opening the door she looked up and listened for a moment. Hearing nothing she began to ascend, Leviticus trailing silently behind her.

True to her word, the Doctor followed Rachel without any issues and the two reached the top quickly. This time Leviticus came to the door and held up the tablet. The screen seemed to peer through the wall and picked up three different heat signatures in the room on the other side.

“It is simply a lobby, the reporter and Fleischer will be in the next room. We must go through them first.” Leviticus began to move before Rachel gripped her arm to stop her.

“What happens if Christian Fleischer hears us coming?” Leviticus stared at her unconcerned by the question.

“He will most likely dispose of the crew before attempting to escape.” The Doctor began to move again, but Rachel held onto her arm.

“We need to take care of those men without alerting the others, I will not risk their lives.” Leviticus frowned.

“This is to save the lives of thousands Agent 37, two lives in the grand scheme are not the ultimate price to pay.” Rachel stared her down uncompromisingly. She may not work for the League anymore, but Lois was still her friend, she would not risk her life for Fleischers. Finally Leviticus gave in with a sigh. “What do you propose?” Rachel thought for a moment before looking down at herself. Her clothes were purposefully neutral to blend in with the crowd. The only thing that stood out was the lump on her right hip, where her gun sat. Reaching down, she pulled the gun off her belt and handed it to Leviticus.

“I’m going to pretend to be lost to get close to them. Once I take care of the first guy I’ll move to the second. I need you to come in to handle the third. We need to do this quietly and quickly, no guns.” Leviticus stared at her for a moment and once again Rachel felt she was being appraised for something. Finally she nodded.

“Very well. I shall follow your lead.”

Straightening her clothes she plastered on her best fake smile and opened the door. When she walked in the three guards immediately turned to her. Their guns weren’t out, but Rachel could see them through their robes. Putting on her best Israeli accent she spoke to them.

“I am so sorry to intrude, I appear to be lost. This wouldn’t happen to be 34 Shivtei Street, would it?” The man closest to her looked at his partners in confusion, as though unsure what to do. The man who had been closest to the office door on the opposite side of the room strode over to her.

“Miss you must leave, this is a private -” As soon as he got close enough and without any hesitation, Rachel reached for the knife tucked behind her back and slashed at his throat. For a moment everyone was silent, and Rachel watched as the blood leaked out from the wound, the man crumbling to the ground with a gurgle.

Without waiting for the other two to recover from their shock she jumped on the next guard just as Leviticus entered the room. Flipping over him she wrapped her arms around his throat and pulled it back. Choking him with it. The man tried to fight back, but Rachel had been taught how to fight someone bigger than her and her grip didn’t waiver. Eventually, he too began to sag to the ground, his silently sputtering and violent jerking quieting until finally, it stopped. After making sure he wasn’t going to wake up she released him and watched as he fell to the ground with a silent thud.

Looking up she made eye contact with Leviticus who was standing over her own guard. The body was turned away from Rachel but she could see a small pool of blood beginning to form under him. For a moment Rachel felt guilt, but shaking her head she moved towards Leviticus. _They’re terrorists, this was the only way to make sure Lois remained safe._ Leviticus for some reason looked pleased, but Rachel ignored that as she reached her hand out for the tablet. Once it was handed to her she crept towards the office door and held it up once more.

This time there were four heat signatures. Two were sitting in the middle of the room, one was right on the other side of the door, and the other was standing on the far side. Pulling the tablet away she took a step away from the door so she could speak without being heard.

“I’m guessing the two sitting are Lois and the cameraman. That leaves the guard on the other side of the door and Fleischer by the windows.” Leviticus looked to the room pensively.

“I will take care of the guard, you will go after Fleischer. Agreed?” Rachel nodded and handed the tablet back to Leviticus who stuffed it back into a hidden pocket in her dress. The Doctor moved forward and after sharing a quick look with Rachel she opened the door and grabbed the guard pulling him backwards into the lobby. Hopping over them Rachel took in the sight of the room. The two in the chair turned to look at her and Rachel saw Lois’s eyes widen in recognition as she took her in. Fleischer turned to her, a look of irritation on his own face.

“You couldn’t have waited five more minutes, I’m in the middle of something.” Rachel raised her eyebrow unimpressed.

“I’m sorry is now not a good time to stop your evil terrorist attack?” Fleischer took off his robe and moved closer to her.

“No, it is not.” The man launched himself at her and quickly Rachel moved out of the way. Hand going to her hip for her gun before remembering that it was still with Leviticus. Fleischer reached out his hand to grab Rachel’s hair but she evaded him, catching his arm and pulling it behind his back. With a grunt of pain, he stomped his foot down on hers causing a few toes to break. Rachel flinched but her grip was tight. Getting behind him she wrapped her other arm around his throat much as she did with the guard.

“Stop!” Looking up Rachel saw the cameraman pointing a gun at Lois, eyes staring at Fleischer. “Let him go or she dies.” Lois for her part looked unbothered.

“Really Tom? You’re working for a cult? What, was photography not paying the bills?”

“Shut-up!” He pressed the gun against her head and turned his attention to Rachel. “Let him go, or I swear to God I will kill her.” Fleischer began to laugh from where he was being held.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” Before Rachel could respond a gunshot filled the room and the cameraman fell forward. Blood pouring from his head. Leviticus stood in the doorway, Rachel’s gun stretched out in front of her. Immediately Fleischer stopped laughing and Rachel felt a grin stretch across her own face.

“You were saying?” Without waiting for a response Rachel grabbed the side of his head and twisted his neck. A loud snapping filled the room as Fleischer went limp in her arms. Dropping him to the ground she looked up and met Lois’s eyes. The woman was staring at her in shock, as though not really believing that she had just killed. The guilt from earlier returned. _He was a terrorist she wanted to say he was planning on killing thousands of people. I’m not the bad guy here._

She couldn’t voice any of those thoughts however because a second later a large shape flew into the room breaking the windows on impact. Rachel ducked as the glass shattered, feeling a few pieces landing in her hair. When she stood back up she tensed. _Of course he would come._

“Hi Superman.” Clark looked away from Lois in surprise, but not as much as she would have expected. He must have heard the good news she thought sarcastically. “What, no how are you? How are you not dead? What are you doing in Israel?” Clark opened his mouth to speak but then his gaze flickered down to the body at her feet. Rachel waited for the anger, the disgust, the judgment. But instead, his face softened into pity.

“Oh Rachel.” Somehow that was worse, the understanding.

“I don’t regret it.” He stiffened at her words but still the judgment didn’t come.

“We know Rachel. We know what happened. You don’t need to do this anymore, you can come home.” The comm that had been sitting in her ear sparked to life and Tiger’s voice filled the line.

_“Agent 37, the brain has been acquired, Midnighter is down but only temporarily. Status on Fleischer?”_

Superman zeroed in on the comm and lifting her hand up to activate it Rachel spoke.

“Fleischer has been terminated. I am on my way.” Superman stepped forward, a pleading look on his face.

“Rachel-”

“I can’t do this right now I have to go.” She started to take a step but once again Clark moved towards her. The sound of a gun cocking filled the room and the two turned to see Leviticus holding Lois by the neck, gun pressed to her temple.

“Go Gray Son, I will hold them off.” Rachel looked at her in confusion.

“What?” Leviticus grew impatient.

“Go. I will stay here with the man of steel and the reporter while you escape.”

“But why?” Leviticus paused for a moment, the appraising look once again gracing her face.

“I knew your GrandFather.” _My GrandFather?_ “I can not tell you much, but if you should ever find yourself in the crosshairs of the Court of Owls run. Do not let them get a hold of you.” _Well, that cleared up absolutely nothing._ Rachel went to speak but Leviticus pressed the gun closer to Lois causing Clark to tense. “Go, now.” She felt Clark's gaze on her but she did not turn to face him. Instead, she reached around to her right ear and turned the silver device implanted there clockwise activating her face spiral. With a small nod of gratitude, Rachel ran out of the room and towards the roof and spoke into her comm.

“Leviticus has been dealt with, where are you located.”

_“There is an evacuation helicopter about a block away SW. I’m on route, I will meet you there.”_

“Copy that.” Opening the door to the roof, she oriented herself for a moment then began sprinting away from the building. She trusted Leviticus to keep her word, but Superman would not be delayed for long. The buildings were so close together that she had little trouble jumping from each one. The jumps far easier than the ones she used to do in Gotham. In front of her was a slightly lower building and taking a deep breath she jumped down, preparing to roll on landing. Before she could do so she felt a hard body tackle her from the side. She hit the concrete hard, the breath knocked out of her. She could not rest however as a large booted foot began to fall down towards her head. Rolling to the side she scrambled up onto her feet and looked at her attacker.

_Jason._

Her brother stood before her, decked out completely in his Red Hood gear, a strange sight to see in the middle of the day. Red Hood ran at her and she once again flipped out of the way, nearly missing a punch in the process.

_“Agent 37, what's your status? We need to get out of here before the Leaders converge.”_

Dancing out the way of another punch she spoke back.

“Slight problem over here, it seems we have a Bat infestation.” There was a short pause on the line.

 _“I am on my way.”_ Before Rachel could respond a foot came out of nowhere kicking her in the side. She let out a grunt of pain and backed away. _Oh great, Tim’s here now too._ Her Brother lifted up three beeping Batarangs and threw them out her and Rachel jumped out of the way before they could explode. Unfortunately, she jumped straight into Jason who wrapped his arms around her chest and threw her to the ground. Straddling her, he lifted his arm up to punch and Rachel tensed. I really don’t want to have to fight you. Before his punch could hit her a gloved hand covered his and pulled it back.

“Stop.” Cass was standing behind him, her voice soft but firm. Though she was holding Jason’s hand she was staring at Rachel.

“Black Bat what the hell. Why are you-”

“It’s Rachel.” Jason froze, his angry tangent cut off by the words. Turning slowly he looked down at her swirling facade. Slowly reaching up her hand she turned the device behind her ear off, and Jason inhaled sharply at the sight of her face.

“Guess the cats out of the bag huh?” No one said anything, no one moved and for a moment Rachel felt supremely uncomfortable. The moment didn’t last long however as quickly Jason scrambled off of her and took off his helmet revealing a frazzled and masked face. Pulling her up he captured her in a tight hug.

“You’re really alive. You’re alive, you’re here, you're breathing.” Rachel tensed for a moment at the physical contact before forcing herself to relax. T _his is Jason, he won’t hurt you._ Slowly lifting her own arms she gently wrapped them around her brother. Over his shoulder she noticed Cass take in her hesitation but her sister said nothing. Rachel turned her attention back to her brother.

“I’m alive.” She reassured him, and because she couldn’t resist it she added, “Sorry to disappoint.” Jason's arms tightened around her for a moment before pulling away. Looking her in the eye.

“Don’t say that.” His voice was more serious than she had ever heard. Unsure of what to say she extracted herself from her Brother’s arms only to be pulled into another hug by Tim. This one was quicker but just as fierce.

“We missed you Rach, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.” He pulled away but not before she could hear her brother's comm crackle in his ear. He listened to what was said for a moment before a look of concern flashed across his face. “ _I’m so sorry._ ” About what? She had only just thought the question when the familiar sound of heavy boots hit the roof. She felt her whole body tense and panic began to rise within her. She saw Tim exchange a strange look with Jason but she could not focus on them. Instead, she heard the feet come closer, nearing her before they stopped suddenly. As though someone had halted him.

“Rachel.” The voice was quiet and relieved and sorrowful and all the things Bruce was not. It did not match the stoic voice she had heard when checking in the last few weeks. It certainly did not match the cruel and raised bellow she had heard when last in the cave. It was not a tone she was used to hearing from Bruce. And that alone made her turn around to face him. Only when she did she noticed he was not alone.

“Damian.” Both men reacted to her voice. Bruce exhaled as though he had been waiting for her to speak. Damian remained where he was standing, and his face matched the one she had seen earlier on Clark. It was one of great sorrow and relief, one of pure love. Another set of footfalls hit the roof and Rachel looked over to Tiger who was watching the proceedings in concern. Rachel could see a pouch slung across his shoulder carrying the brain. Her family tensed but did not attack.

“Agent 37?” She could hear the question in his tone. _Are you alright, what do you need?_ The only problem was Rachel didn’t know how to answer. Didn’t know how to focus on anything except the fact her brother was alive.

“Damian.” Her voice cracked and she threw herself at her Brother, holding onto him tightly. She felt his own arms come up as the two desperately grabbed at one another. Rachel felt tears come to her eyes, and her throat tightened at the swell of emotion. “I don’t understand, I don’t- how did you-”

“It is alright. I’m here and I’m so sorry about everything. But it will be alright now.” _Damian was alive, Damian was alive. How was this possible, how did this happen, when did this happen?_ The roof was silent as the two embraced. Letting the two have their privacy. Rachel pulled back from his arms, desperately soaking in his face. The last time she had seen him he had been cold and bloody and now he was breathing and everything was okay.

“How?” Damian smiled, a rare and small thing that Rachel knew was solely reserved for her.

“My GrandFather. Apparently, he was rather displeased by my Mother’s actions.” _Ra’s, the pit brought him back, was he alright?_ Damian seemed to sense her concern. “I am fine, there were no side-effects. Pennyworth has been monitoring me for a while and there have been no signs of complications.” The news was good but Rachel felt her eyes narrow at the words.

“A while? How long have you been back?” Damian paused and looked over to Bruce, anger simmering underneath his eyes. And Rachel felt herself grow hot with anger, bitterness rising up within her. _Of course._ Stepping away from her Brother she moved in front of Bruce, who was watching her cautiously.

“How long.” Her voice was quiet, deadly, and she could sense her siblings twitching at the sound.

“How long?” It was a question but Rachel knew Bruce knew what she was asking.

“How long has he been _alive._ ” There was a pause, a long pause, so long that Rachel wondered if he would actually answer her.

“A month.”

“A month?” Rachel spat out, red creeping into her vision. “A month and you didn’t tell me. Didn’t think that I deserved to know that he was alive? I reported back to you every single fucking week and you couldn’t tell me that Damian wasn’t dead?” Bruce turned to look quickly at Tiger, his face going blank as he tried to save face.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Rachel laughed, a cruel and ugly noise, and Damian twitched from where he was standing. As though longing to grab her.

“Save it _Bruce_.” The man flinched at the name but she continued. “They know, they’ve always known. They told me the night they recruited me that they knew I was undercover.”

“ _What_.” And there it is, the infamous temper, always stirring under the surface, always ready to be ignited. “Why did you not include that in your reports?” Rachel would not be bullied, would not feel bad for what she had done, not when he had made her do it in the first place. With the arrival of her family came clarity.

“Fuck you Bruce. Just- God why did I ever put up with your shit?

“Excuse me?” Batman took a step closer to her and Rachel felt all her siblings move behind her as Damian roughly grabbed Bruce’s arm to stop him, but she did not flinch. In fact, she got angrier.

“You don’t get to be mad at me, not when it was my life on the line. Not after everything that you did. I made a choice, and I’m starting to think it was the right one.” The anger seemed to drain from Bruce at her words.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t trust you! Why would I? What have you done to make me think I could?” She paused waiting for an answer, waiting for some kind of explanation. A reason for why Bruce was so cruel. She wanted him to say something, anything. But he remained silent. “They may be spies but at least Spyral has never lied to me Bruce. At least I know when I am being used.”

“They want to destroy the League.” Rachel rolled her eyes at his comment.

“They just want oversight.”

“And who are they to decide that?”

“WHO ARE YOU!” She waved her hands angrily at the man, ignoring when Bruce flinched at her shout. “Who are you to decide what to do and what is good and what is right and what is worth fighting for? Who are you to decide who the enemy is? What if _you’re_ wrong, why should we blindly follow you. Who will protect us from you.” A gloved hand landed on her shoulder and she shook it off in anger. It reached out again and turned her towards them. Jason was staring at her, his face twisted in pain.

“Bruce fucked up, he really fucked up, and he can’t fix it Rachel. But don’t punish yourself for what he did, don’t do this just to spite him.” Rachel pulled away from him in disgust.

“Believe it or not Hood I have the ability to think critically. Contrary to belief, I don’t allow myself to be moved around like some sort of puppet.” Jason furrowed his brow in confusion.

“So what are you saying? That _we’re_ the bad guys, that you want to join Spyral for real. They’ve made you kill Rachel, you’re not a killer!” Rachel laughed again, this time at the absurdity of the situation.

“Guess what Hood, about 15 minutes ago I snapped a guy's neck and I don’t regret a thing.” A stricken look appeared on her Brothers face and she moved away from him. “If you don’t like it, you can blame _him_.” She nodded to Bruce who was just staring at her silently. She began to move away from the group towards Tiger when she felt a large hand grab her wrist. This time she didn’t immediately pull it away.

“Grayson.” She did not look at Damian, her anger from before fizzled, leaving her with an exhausting sadness.

“I am tired, and I am angry, and I am so mad at him.” His voice was soft as he stepped closer to her.

“Then be mad at him, but don’t give up on us. I’m not asking you to forgive him-”

“I don’t.” A quiet stuttered breath came from Bruce but still Rachel did not turn around. “Of course I don’t.” The hand on her wrist tightened and Rachel knew that Damian wanted to hug her, knew that all she had to do was step back and bury her head into his chest. Knew she would be taken back home, safe and sound, away from Bruce _away from Spyral_. After lingering for a moment she pulled her wrist out of his grip and he let her. Still she didn’t turn around. Tim spoke up quietly.

“Spyral is the enemy Rachel. You know that you have to. Choose to be a hero, choose to fight against them.”

“Agent 37.” Rachel looked up at Tiger, and she thought of the month she had experienced. A month without fear, a month of independence and friendship. She thought of what Minos had said to her earlier in his office. Bruce was manipulative and abusive, and it was hard to leave him. And maybe her siblings couldn’t but she could. She started walking to Tiger again, and this time no one stopped her.

“I think you’re wrong. And I’m not going to fall in line just because you ask me to.” She turned back to her family when she reached Tiger. Bruce was still staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Damian looked remorseful as though he longed to wrap her up and take her away, to change her mind but didn’t know how. Tim looked lost, as though confused about how they had gotten here, confused by how this could happen. And Cass just stared at her, head tilted, just watching. Finally, she turned her attention to Jason. If anyone would understand it was him. “You’ve said it before Jay, he doesn’t want children, he wants soldiers. And I-I can’t fight his war, not anymore.” Jason watched her for a moment, his face unusually blank until finally he nodded.

“Do what you have to do. Just know that we will be here if you change your mind.” Tiger leaned over to her, hand on the small of her back. She saw Jason watching him closely, but she turned her attention back to her partner as he whispered in her ear.

“I’m sorry but we have to go… Midnighter-” She nodded and turned away from her family. Gesturing for Agent 1 to lead. He stared at her for a moment before jumping off the roof and running towards the extraction site. She was about to do the same when Damian’s voice spoke up again. This time closer than before.

“Rachel… Please don’t.” Looking over her shoulder she met her brother's gaze, and though she felt guilt at leaving him, she could not find it in her to regret her decision.

“You died.” She said quietly, desperation leaking into her words. “You died Dami, and then I died and I’m so tired of fighting a losing battle. I’m tired of being weak.” Looking away from her Brother she jumped off the roof and began running towards Tiger.

She did not think of the pain on her brother's face at her words. Did not think of the relief on Tiger’s when he saw her approach the helicopter. She only had one thought.

_I hope this is the right choice._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. 
> 
> Hello everyone! I just wanted to say thank you again for your kind comments, I’m so happy you guys have been enjoying the story so far! 
> 
> Damian (Shadow): 28 
> 
> Barbara (Oracle, OG Batgirl): 29
> 
> Tim (Knight, previously Batboy): 24
> 
> Stephanie (Spoiler): 22
> 
> Cass (Black Bat): 22
> 
> Jason (Red Hood, previously Batboy): 21 
> 
> Rachel (Robin): 18 

Damian had not always preferred the Penthouse to the Manor. 

It was too modern, too new and clean, and its proximity to downtown Gotham had unnerved him. The Manor’s distance meant safety, it was a refuge from the absurdity and crazy that they had to face each night when they patrolled. It was dignified. His Mother had stressed upon him the importance of class at an early age. The Manor spoke of highbrow society and breeding, of elegance and old money, all the things that were important to Damian when he was younger. The Penthouse was common, it resided in the midst of the swell. It was wealth but quiet wealth.

But then he had moved in with Cassandra and Rachel, distraught over the loss of Jason and overwhelmed by the responsibility of raising children. And after a few short months, it became  _ home _ . 

When he had first taken his sisters away from his Father he had only been thinking of protecting them. The black eye on Rachel’s face served as a reminder of how he had failed to do so. His Father had hurt them and he would not be allowed to do so again. That night however the reality set in. He was 21 taking care of a soon to be 12-year-old and 16-year-old. He had spent the last several years running between the Titans and Gotham. And while he cared for his siblings he hadn’t had to care  _ for _ them. Who was he to raise these two? His own childhood had been fraught with cruelty and pain, he was broken he was not a parent.

Timothy had come over that night, eyes wide and clothing skewed. At the age of seventeen, he had been already living by himself, splitting his time between university and an internship at Wayne Industries. He was a child himself, but he stepped up. The two had worked in tandem, taking them to school, cooking dinner, and cleaning the apartment. Training the two girls. Consoling them. And something shifted, suddenly they were not adversaries, each vying for Bruce’s attention for the right to be his partner. They were brothers, bound in grief, trying to hold together the family they had not asked for but now cherished. 

When the Joker had kidnapped Timothy just a few months after Jason’s murder, the man laying at the clown’s feet covered in blood Damian snapped. And when his Father arrived to stop him from killing the villain he broke. He had been so angry, so worried, he had always thought that loving someone was weak. He had tried desperately not to care for his family when they arrived, kept a distance as they began to grow and bond. But at some point, that distance shrank and he would do anything for them. It drove him crazy that his Father would not.

Even when Damian brought Jason back from his Mother, angry and bloodthirsty, the boy he once was crushed and hidden under a cutthroat facade. Even when the girls moved back in with Bruce and the man became their mentor once more. Even when Timothy left the Penthouse, turning his attention back to his schooling and work. Even then, Damian stayed. Stayed in Gotham, doors open and sheets cleaned. Just in case one of his siblings needed him. And they always did.

Jason sought him out the most, hands twitching towards the guns on his hip, cigarette in between his fingers. He was 16 when he came home, but he acted older, he looked like a tired man who had been through too much. The two talked often about everything and anything. Philosophy, morality, virtues and sins, Jane Austin. Bruce could not understand Jason any longer, could not forgive him for killing rapists and drug lords and the scum of Gotham. But Damian could, he could offer him a home.

Rachel would be there as well. At first, Jason had longed to keep her away, keep her untainted from his bitterness. But she was determined. The two would chat and she would be curled up against one of their sides, piping in when the conversation allowed it and just listening when she couldn’t relate. Together the two brought Jason home, not to the Manor never to the Manor, but back to their family. 

When they thought Bruce had died Damian had felt guilty. Not because he thought he could have saved his Father. But because Rachel and Cassandra came back to live with him, this time with Alfred in tow, and it felt right. 

How could life feel  _ right _ when his Father was dead? 

How could he be so bold as to see himself as a parent to the two girls? But it felt right nonetheless. He had helped raise them. He had given them love and protection, they were  _ his _ family. But then Timothy left on what Damian had thought was a fool’s mission to find his Father. And Cassandra went with him. And Jason spiraled. And Damian could no longer keep his family together, but he still had Rachel. She was still a child, and he was her guardian, and for awhile it was just the two of them. And again something shifted.

Even when Bruce came back the change was noticeable. More often than not Rachel could be found in the Penthouse, doing homework or getting ready for patrol. The others were older, still so young but longing for independence as one does when they become an adult. They still came home, still needed Damian, but they needed him as a brother. Rachel needed a  _ Father _ and it was clear that Bruce could not fill that role anymore. It was clear that his Father had been marred by Jason’s death by his own stint in the time stream. And so Damian stepped up, and Damian knew that his Father resented him for it. But he didn’t care.

And then he died and everything fell apart.

Rachel was gone, angry and bitter and disenfranchised and all the things Rachel Grayson should never be. All the things Damian had strived to protect her from.

So there he stood, in the middle of the Penthouse  _ his home _ , and all he felt was lost.

Damian didn’t know what he had expected when he walked into the apartment. Would it be dusty, furniture covered with white sheets? Would it be sterile, cleaned meticulously by Alfred, and artifacts packed-up and stored away? Had anyone even stepped foot in the building since his death or would it look like it had the last time he had been in the room? Textbooks all over the kitchen aisle as Rachel studied for her high school exams, determined to graduate early. Cass’s dance bag sitting on the armchair where she had flung it the night before when she had returned from her class. Stephanies colorful array of nail polishes lined up on the coffee table, still out as she had left in a hurry that morning to get to class. Damian had expected all of these things. Had prepared for all of these things. But when he stepped into the Penthouse he found none of his theories had been correct.

The Penthouse was  _ lived _ in. There was a slight staleness to the air, but only as though the apartment had been vacant for a few weeks and not months. A clean cereal bowl and spoon sat in the dish rack, as though they had been just cleaned that morning. There was still nail polish on the coffee table but the colors were different, darker. The blankets on the couch were not folded but swaddled into the shape of a cocoon, as though someone had built themselves a nest. No textbooks laid on the kitchen aisle, instead, there were packets of paper that were all half-finished. Looking closer he saw that they were applications to various police departments across the country. 

Damian closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, a familiar sadness creeping up on him.

“She lived here.” Opening his eyes he turned around to see Jason sitting on the window ledge. 

“For how long?” Pulling himself into the apartment, Jason closed the window behind him and walked over to the kitchen. 

“At first she would just stop by after patrol or for the weekend. But then things started getting really bad with Bruce and she would spend the night after a fight. By the time the syndicate got her she was pretty much living here full time.” Damian felt his throat tighten at the thought of Rachel coming by the Penthouse, angry and grieving.

“Was she alone?” Jason shook his head and took a seat at the aisle.

“We took turns, someone was always there with her when they could be… We were worried. After you died it was like a light went out and she was… different.” Damian thought back to the scowl on Rachel’s face when she had spoken to Bruce, the ugly laugh she had let out in spite. So different from her usual one.  _ ‘Guess what Hood, about 15 minutes ago I snapped a guy’s neck and I don’t regret a thing _ .’

“I can see that.” He whispered. The woman on the roof was Rachel, but not  _ his Rachel _ . Not the girl he had left a few months ago. Jason looked at him for a long while before responding.

“When you died we weren’t worried because she was  _ angry _ Damian. We were worried because she was reckless. She leaped without looking, she picked fights with anyone and everyone. She wouldn’t listen to anyone. Nine times out of ten she would get back from patrol needing stitches. It was like she didn’t care what happened to her anymore.” Damian pinched the bridge of his nose.  _ I don’t want to hear about this. _

“Why are you telling me this?” Jason was silent again. And when Damian looked up he was staring at the application on the aisle, a weary look on his face. When his brother turned back to him Damian could see that his eyes were green, but not out of anger.

“Because you’re acting like we lost her but we didn’t. She’s still alive.”

“She’s not acting like herself.”   
  


“No she’s not and I am so  _ fucking  _ grateful for that.” Jason spat out. “She’s angry but she’s not making this choice o _ ut  _ of anger Damian. She’s doing what she thinks is right. She made a choice and you may not like it but  _ she _ made the choice.” Damian felt himself get angry.

“She’s making the wrong choice.” Jason shook his head but Damian kept going. “She’s Rachel, she believes in people  _ in heroes _ . She believes in good and justice and all the bullshit that Kent spouts when wearing that ridiculous red cape of his. This isn’t her Todd, this isn’t right.” Jason raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Why because she’s killed, people?”

“Because she doesn’t care!” Damian yelled, any semblance of composure breaking. “I will never judge her for taking a life, I have no right to. But this is Rachel we are talking about. I never wanted this for her. I  _ don’t  _ want this for her!” The green in Jason’s eyes began to soften at the admission but it didn’t go away.

“Did you want me to die?” Damian pulled back aghast.

“Of course not.”

“When you came back were you happy with my choices? Did you want me to kill?”

“Todd-”

“Of course we don’t  _ want _ this for her Damian. She’s like this because she went through so much pain and she had to heal herself in whatever way she could. This is where we are.” Jason threw up his hands in a manner as if to say  _ ‘what can you do?’ _ . “ We can’t go back, we can’t change things. But you can help her as you helped me. Maybe we’ll never get the old Rachel back, after all the old me never came back. But I’ll take any Rachel I can get.” Damian looked away from his brother, anger and sadness combining into one. He didn’t want to lose the person his sister had been. Didn’t want her bellowing laugh and spark in her eye to become a snide cackle and deadly glint. He didn’t want to lose what he had.

But he didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

Looking over to Jason he saw the man staring at him, waiting. He was right, he would never be like the boy he had been before being murdered. He had been through far too much, had done too much. But Damian saw glimpses of that boy in him, saw it in the childish arguments he had with Stephanie, in the bookshelves he kept in all of his safehouses.

“I just don’t want her to feel she can’t come back. I don’t want her to do something she’ll regret.” Jason let out a loud snort at that.

“Of course she will Damian. We’ve all done something we wished we hadn’t. All we can do is be there for her when she needs us.” Standing up Jason took another look around the room before meeting Damian’s gaze again. “Things can’t stay the same forever. But Rachels  _ alive _ Damian, and I think she’s happy. Fine maybe she’s working for the enemy but who among us hasn’t done that?”

“But it’s  _ Rachel”  _ And somehow that seemed different. Rachel was different, the ‘golden-child’ as Jason had called her over and over again. She was hope, she was light, she didn’t  _ fall _ . Jason smiled a small said thing and nodded again.

“It’s Rachel. And it sucks. But she’s doing what she thinks is right just like she always has... Maybe  _ she _ hasn’t changed, maybe the world has. Can you honestly tell me you don’t get it? Don’t get why she would want oversight for the League after what she’s been through? Can you honestly tell me she’s wrong?” Without waiting for an answer Jason moved back to the window he had come in through and opened it back up. Swinging his foot over the ledge he straddled the sill. Damian followed him, slowly, thinking over his brother’s words.

“Do you think she is right?” Jason paused, a contemplative look on his face.

“I think she wants to help people, and I think she thinks this is the way to do it… I think there are obvious dangers to the Paragon Protocol but I also think that maybe some oversight wouldn’t be the worse thing.” Jason pulled himself the rest of the way out the window. Leaving Damian alone in the Penthouse, feeling more conflicted than he had been when he arrived.

  
  


************************************************************************

The ride back to base was quiet. 

Rachel sat in her seat still, eyes fixed forward staring at nothing. She could sense Tiger looking at her but she did not turn her head. The thoughts in her head were quiet, settled and for the first time in a long time she felt peaceful. There were no secrets, no choices left to make. She had made her decision and she knew it had been the right one. Even the looks on her family’s face had not deterred her. They wanted her to be someone she no longer was, no longer could be. Eventually they would understand that, and if they didn’t… there was nothing she could do about it.

At the very least she had Jason. Jason who knew, who understood her. Rachel had never been able to understand her brother when he came back from the pit. She loved him of course, but she hadn’t understood him. He had been angry and righteous and so very independent from Bruce. And at first, Rachel had assumed he had been wrong, assumed that because he was against Batman he was the villain. Now however she understood him. She didn’t feel like a villain, didn’t feel like she was wrong.  _ Age is more than just growing older, it’s growing wiser as well _ . 

Rachel was smart, but she wasn’t a genius, not like Tim. She knew she didn’t know everything. But she also knew how to think critically, she knew how to think like a detective, to take the facts that are given to her and come to a conclusion. It was not her fault her family came to a different one.

And Damian was  _ alive _ . She had missed him and it had been so hard to walk away from him. But she had survived without him this long, she could do it again. And now it was easier, now she knew that he was out there breathing,  _ living _ . She would see him again, but she needed to do this first, needed to finish her mission with Spyral.

The helicopter landed and Rachel took off her ear protectors and unbuckled her seat belt. Stepping down, she began to walk towards the building, slowing only slightly when Tiger came to her side and leaned over.

“I will do the debrief, go get some rest.” Rachel almost argued, almost declined the offer. But his face shone with so much concern that Rachel felt warmed by it. With a small nod, she changed her path and began walking towards her room instead. The grounds were quiet, the sky was beginning to darken and the campus was relaxed. Dinner had finished an hour ago and no doubt students were inside relaxing for a moment before they began to study. 

When she reached the door to her room she pushed it open quietly and her eyes went immediately to the phone Bruce had given to her. A blinking green light signaled that she had a voice message. Walking over to the phone she stared at it for a moment before turning it over in her hand. Unplugging the phone she walked over to her bathroom and turned on the kitchen sink. She put in the plug and waited for it to fill. When the water reached midway she turned the facet off and dropped the phone in. Watching it sink slowly to the bottom, small bubbles coming up from it. 

Stepping out of the bathroom she looked around her bare living space, eyes flicking around taking in her room. She looked at her desk where a stack of papers sat, her work as an Agent and as a teacher intermingling. She would have to sort through it later. She looked to her bed, clean and made with a carefulness Alfred had drilled into her at a young age. Corners tucked in and pillows plumped. The dresser next to it was not so well maintained and various articles of clothing spilled over and stuck out in a way that prevented the drawers from closing all the way. The room had not changed since she had been there last. But she felt different within it.

She felt old. 

Not in a bad way but in a settled way. She felt like a woman and not like a child. She loved her family but they never neglected to stress that she was the youngest. She was the one who needed to be watched and protected. And Bruce… he made her second guess everything, every choice, every thought. But here she felt confident. Confident in her abilities, in her standing. It was a strange feeling but not an unpleasant one.

A small knock came from her door and she turned to answer it. Unsurprised when she came face to face with Tiger. He was still looking at her with soft concern but Rachel didn’t mind. His concern did not stem from a belief that she could not handle herself.

“May I come in?” With a smile, Rachel opened the door wider and he stepped into the room, looking around for a moment as though unsure of what to do next. Rachel huffed out a laugh and grabbed his arm pulling him gently over to the bed. She hopped on it quickly, sitting crisscross with the pillows behind her back, and he slowly sat down on the edge. The two were silent for a moment, Tiger’s head bowed staring at his hands. “Are you alright?” His voice was soft like a whisper and Rachel smiled again.

“I’m alright.” She matched his tone, it was like they were sharing a secret, the air still and calm. 

“Good. Your family seemed… You were angry earlier… upset.” Rachel nodded.

“I was.” Tiger looked up.

“Anger does not suit you.” Rachel chuckled  _ if only he knew _ . She had always had a temper, but it was a quick one. It struck in an instant and extinguished just as quickly. Over the last year however, it seemed as though it lingered for longer and longer. 

“You’d be surprised.” Tiger shook his head.

“Well then I am sorry that you have been given so many reasons to be angry.” Rachel shrugged, unsure of how to answer that. “Are you angry now?” Rachel frowned at the question.

“Why would I be?” Tiger shuffled where he sat, though Rachel couldn’t tell if he was nervous or uncomfortable.

“Your brother asked if you were doing this out of spite… I was just wondering if that was true? I... enjoy your company, but I do not want you here if it is only because you don’t want to be  _ there _ . That is to say… You don’t deserve to be miserable here just to spite them.” Rachel stared at the man in a sort of quiet wonder. No ounce of selfishness in his words or tone.  _ He’s nervous because he doesn’t want you to go, but he doesn’t want you to suffer if you stay _ . Reaching out her hand she placed it on his, immediately he wrapped both his hands over her own.  _ They’re callused… they’re warm _ .

“I meant what I said to them, I think Spyral is doing the right thing. I think… I like it here, I like the missions and the work.” Her mind drifted to what he told her after she killed Dubov, sitting next to the lake. “You told me to do whatever I think is right. I think this is right.”  
  
“Even if you have to kill?” Rachel thought for a moment. She had always thought killing was bad but was that just because Bruce had told her so? True she had not enjoyed doing it, she wasn’t itching to end someone’s life, but she could not argue that it wasn’t practical. Efficient. She thought of the Joker and of how much harm he had caused. Had he been killed early on thousands of people would still be alive. Jason wouldn’t have been murdered, Barbara wouldn’t have been paralyzed. Rachel couldn’t deny that it would have made things easier. 

“I think… The problem comes from being the judge, jury, and executioner. If I alone have the power to decide who lives and dies. But here… it’s not murder, it’s a job. Someone tells me what needs to be done and I do it. And the people are  _ bad.  _ I don’t enjoy it or take glee from it but I understand why it has to happen. FBI Agents, officers, soldiers, they kill and they are not automatically deemed murderers. There is an argument to be made about the institutions that house these individuals and there are times when they abuse their power, but when they don’t…” Rachel shrugged. “That being said I am against the death penalty so... it’s complicated.” Tiger stared at her, an incredulous look on his face.

“Complicated?” Shaking his head he let out a laugh. “You’re a strange woman Rachel Grayson.” Rachel grinned.

“That’s why you love me Tony.” His hands tightened around hers and he brought them close to his chest. He shifted closer so his knees were pressed against her legs.

“I must admit that I am happy you chose to stay.” Rachel felt her stomach dip at the soft admission.

“Yeah?” Tiger smiled at her.

“Yeah.” 

Leaning over he cupped a hand around her cheek and brought her into a kiss. It was soft, really soft, and for a moment Rachel just stayed there breathing him in. Pulling her hand out of his, she brought both to the side of his face and pulled him in deeper. His lips didn’t taste sweet, his scent wasn’t hot with a manly musk. It wasn’t anything crazy or ridiculous but it was nice. His lips were smooth and Rachel knew hers were chapped, but she also knew it didn’t matter. Especially not when she bit his bottom lip and he let out a soft groan. Rachel huffed a laugh at the noise and letting go she tilted her head to kiss him deeper. Grinning slightly as he returned her bite with one of his own.

She was still sitting cross-legged and so, without moving away from his lips, she uncrossed her legs and moved to straddle him. She settled her knees on either side of his hips, and gently she lowered herself to sit on his lap. His other hand came up and ran through her hair. Catching slightly on the tangles before working through them. Pulling away from one another the two breathed heavily for a moment and Rachel went to rest her forehead on his only for him to move and the two to hit heads. 

Rachel let out a loud laugh pulling back to rub at the spot on her forehead the two had knocked. She looked down to see Tiger grinning, shaking his head slightly.

“You’re an acrobat, aren’t you supposed to be graceful?” Rachel rolled her eyes and threw her hands around his neck.

“Do you really want to make fun of me while I’m straddling you?” Her voice was breathier than she expected and she watched as Tigers’ eyes darkened at the sound, causing a small chill to go down her back.

“No, I don’t.” And he moved forward, capturing her lips once more, this time rougher, as though emboldened by what had just occurred. After a moment Tiger pulled back again, this time his mouth moving down to her neck, gently biting on the exposed flesh between her shoulder and shirt collar. Rachel looked up as he did so, a stupid grin etched on her face. Her hands moving from around his neck to his shoulders. She felt him open his mouth and breathe into her skin. “Is this okay? Is this fine?” Rachel nodded.

“Yeah, this is okay.”

  
  


************************************************************************

The room was dark. The sun had just been setting when they had started and neither had bothered to turn on the light. Now it was hours later and Tiger lay behind her, arm thrown over her bare stomach and head buried into her hair. His soft breath tickling her neck as he slept. Rachel laid in front of him, head resting on his other arm, and back curled into his chest.  _ I get it _ . She thought.  _ I get why people want this _ .

When she was young she had never really understood her brother’s need for companions. Though it was true none of her family was very romanticly inclined she was not blind. She knew that Tim and Kon had been together for as long as she could remember, and Jason had not been shy about his previous relationship with the other Outsiders. And though she understood the desire for a friend, anything else seemed superfluous. After all, Damian had been alone almost all his life and Rachel knew he was content, or at least had been before his death. 

Perhaps it was because she had never really been allowed to date anyone. Her brothers had scared off any and all potential suitors and though she had been on dates and had a few kisses they never lasted for long.

But laying there against Tiger, feeling warm and safe and content. She got it, she understood why people would want to feel this way. Want to feel  _ loved _ . Turning around she shuffled so that she was facing him head-on. His face was calm, calmer than she had ever seen it. She let her hand drift over his forehead, over the now relaxed frown lines that had seemed permanently etched there until now. She moved her hand down to his chest, tracing the scars that littered it. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was quiet, and when Rachel looked up she saw his eyes were still closed. Rachel continued to trace his chest.

“Just thinking” She responded just as quietly.

“About?”

“How you’re kind of cute when you’re not scowling at me.” As if on cue a scowl returned to his face and he opened his eyes slightly to look at her.

“I’m not cute.” He sounded so pouty that Rachel couldn’t help but to laugh, which caused his scowl to deepen slightly.

“Sorry to break it to you Tony but you’re cute.” As if to prove her point she reached up and pinched his cheek. “Like a little Tiger cub.” Swatting her hand away he huffed and turned on his other side, causing her to laugh again. Gently she leaned down and kissed his shoulder before stepping out of the bed, pausing only when his hand reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“You’re leaving?” Pulling her arm up she kissed the hand on her wrist before patting it lightly. 

“Just to get some water, I’ll be right back.” With a nod he let go and buried deeper into her bed, pulling the blanket on top of him as he did so. With a smile, she pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before inching out of her room and moving towards the communal kitchen. The hall was silent as its residents slept on, and the only sound was the quiet footfall of her bare feet on the wooden floor. When she reached the kitchen she turned on the light and blinked quickly at the brightness. Once she recovered she moved to the cabinet where a collection of mismatched mugs sat and pulling out a blue one she filled it in the sink. Just as she took a sip from it she felt a now-familiar breeze drift across her.

“Well you are looking positively debauched Sweetheart, is that a Hickie I see? What would you’re Father say?” Without responding she threw the mug behind her at Midnighter. The water in it splashing to the ground as he caught it. She moved to run out of the kitchen when he caught her arm and pulled her into his chest. Opening her mouth to shout she heard the familiar cock of a gun and felt a cool metal press against her temple. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” Rachel stilled, eyes darting around her for an exit strategy. 

“What do you want?” Midnighter shifted slightly, keeping the gun firmly on her temple.

“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to talk?” Rachel snorted and Midnighter chuckled slightly at her response. “That’s fair. But whether you believe it or not it’s true.”   
  


“Do all your conversations start as a hostage situation or am I just special?” Midnighter paused for a moment before lowering his gun and letting her go. Taking slow steps, she moved away a couple of feet before turning to face him. He held up his gun in a placating manor before tucking it in the holster at his side.

“I really do want to talk.” Rachel frowned as she took in the man. His face was still partially covered by his cowl but he seemed weary. As though he had been awake for a long time. 

“I don’t know if you heard the news but I’m not working for the Bats anymore, why would you want to talk to me?” Midnighter took a deep breath and rubbed roughly at his chin.

“You remember what I said the last time I visited? How you had a choice to make and how you had to be prepared to deal with the consequences if you made the wrong one.” Rachel nodded, still not sure where it was going. “Well, apparently God’s Garden isn’t as good as I thought it was, and I’m not willing to stand or fall for them anymore.” Rachel raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“What do you mean?” Midnighter took a heavy seat at one of the empty tables and pulled out a file from his jacket.

“Turns out the Gardner doesn’t want to stop Spyral from building the Paragon Android. She wants to steal it.” Rachel moved quickly over to the file and picked it up. In the front was a breakdown of each league member, their powers, their weaknesses. Behind them was a profile of every Spyral Agent, including herself. All Agents had a blue box outlining their photo except for Minos who was in red.

“Why would they want to do that, they work for the League?” Midnighter shook his head.

“Spyral intends to use Paragon against the League only  _ if  _ they turn. God’s doesn’t intend to wait that long. The League has been watching them closely ever since their inception. They don’t agree with how Gardner deals with things but they can’t deny she’s useful. Gardner ordered Ladytron to steal the parts so that Spyral could collect them and built Paragon themselves. After it was built Gardner would end Spyral and use the android to defeat the League.” Rachel shook her head.

“There are two many variables. How could they be sure we found out about the parts and who had them? Or that we would get them before you did? After all, you and Leviticus were sent to stop us right?” Midnighter took a deep breath and grabbed the folder out of her hand and began to flip through it.

“Gardner sent us on a wild goose chase, Martian Manhunter can’t read her mind but he can read ours. The League needed to believe we were on their side,  _ we _ believed we were on their side.” Finding the page he was looking for he set it down on the table allowing Rachel to see a picture of Dr. Ashemoore. “Spyral knew where the Paragon parts were because Gardner told Ashemoore to tell you. Guess you’re not the only double agent around.” Rachel sat down next to him, the familiar sting of betrayal flaring in her chest. She talked to Poppy  _ trusted  _ her.

“Shit. That’s...fuck okay. Not great. But still, Gardner is letting us build an all-powerful android and she just expects to steal it from us? That’s a huge gamble.” Midnighter twitched as though hesitant to say the next part.

“She doesn’t intend to fight Spyral, she intends to control you.” Grabbing her arm he pulled her forward and flicked at the implant behind her ear. “That fun little device isn’t just designed to protect your identity. It has two codewords. One to knock you unconscious and one to activate a sleeper agent. All Spyral agents have been implanted with one… Gardner plans to walk right into Spyral and take the device. Once it’s hers she will use the agents in her fight against the Justice League. Then… who knows, maybe kill you?” Rachel sat back in her chair, digging her hand into her eyes. Almost afraid to ask the next question.

“Minos ordered the devices, he said it was there to protect our identity if we wished to use it. Is he… does he work for-”

“No. He’s being controlled. Dr. Ashemoore upgraded his own device just after you arrived. It’s allowed him to become susceptible to her suggestions while maintaining his usual composure. As of right now, only _ his _ implant has been activated.” Relief flooded Rachel, she had just decided to abandon her family for Spyral, she didn’t know what she would do if Minos turned out to be yet another evil supervillain. 

“How did you find this all out?” 

“I saw Dr. Ashmoore on the Garden, she didn’t see me but I saw her.” He paused, staring off just to the side of her as he contemplated his next words. “Strictly speaking I’m a meta, I can make portals, that’s how I’ve been able to sneak in here undetected but I can also predict the outcome of any situation within seconds. When I saw Poppy I predicted that she was a double agent and I did a little digging to back it up. I can only predict based on the information I have. If I don’t have enough information my predictions tend to be less accurate.” Rachel nodded, honestly it wasn’t the weirdest power she had heard of, and for some strange reason she trusted Midnighter.

“So what now? Does the League know?” Midnighter shook his head.

“If we spill the beans too soon Gardner will activate your implants. She’ll either kill hundreds of agents in one fell swoop or use you as cannon fodder against the League. We need to get the devices off all of you before we let her know that  _ we  _ know.” Rachel took a deep breath,  _ why can’t anything ever be easy _ . She turned back to Midnighter.

“Why are you helping us? I thought you don’t believe in playing hero?” Midnighter laughed a short and bitter sound. 

“I don’t. But like I told you kid I do what’s right. Not good or bad but right. Turns out what I thought was right was wrong, and so I’m going to make up for it before it’s too late.” Before Rachel could respond she heard the familiar click of a gun and looking up she saw Tiger standing in the doorway. His shirt was off and his pants hung low on his hips. His gun was pointed at Midnighter and his face was still in a tense fury.

“Get the hell away from her.” Midnighter stared at Tiger for a moment before letting out a wild laugh. Looking him up and down before turning to Rachel.

“Damn sweetheart, Agent 1’s your boy toy? Hell, I would have chosen Spyral too if it meant getting into bed with him.” An incredulous look appeared on Tiger’s face and with a groan, Rachel slammed her head onto the table in front of her. 

_ Fuck. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. 
> 
> Hey, cool cats! Please enjoy the next chapter of A Faceless Woman: A Flightless Bird, I hope everyone is staying safe and staying warm!
> 
> Damian (Shadow): 28 
> 
> Barbara (Oracle, OG Batgirl): 29
> 
> Tim (Knight, previously Batboy): 24
> 
> Stephanie (Spoiler): 22
> 
> Cass (Black Bat): 22
> 
> Jason (Red Hood, previously Batboy): 21 
> 
> Rachel (Robin): 18 

“Damn sweetheart, Agent 1’s your boy toy? Hell, I would have chosen Spyral too if it meant getting into bed with him.” An incredulous look appeared on Tiger’s face and with a groan, Rachel slammed her head onto the table in front of her.  _ Fuck. _

“Maybe don’t antagonize the spy with a gun Midnighter.”

“Well, where’s the fun in that?”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Rachel looked up to see Tiger looking between the two, the look on his face was a mixture of confusion, concern, and irritation. He was still pointing his gun at Midnighter but it was slightly relaxed, as though he realized there wasn’t an immediate threat. Midnighter was looking at him unperturbed, leaning back into his chair as though he didn’t have a care in the world.  _ He can guess possible outcomes, the likelihood of Tiger actually shooting him must be low. Or he has a death warrant. _

“Long story short: Gardner bad, Midnighter good. I’d rather not repeat myself any more than necessary so why don’t we continue this conversation with your supervisor, preferably the one that’s not a mind-controlled puppet.” Tiger didn’t look very convinced and so he turned his gaze back to her, his eyes softening just a fraction.

“Rachel?”  _ Can we trust him? _ Rachel was touched that he was looking to her for reassurance, advice. Getting up from the table she walked over to him nodding.

“He’s telling the truth, or at least it seems like he is. We need to call Matron, is there somewhere we can talk without being overheard?” Tiger stared at her for a moment before lowering his gun and nodding. 

“There’s a small building at the edge of the grounds, it was an old shooting range that Spyral has yet to convert. I’ll go there with Midnighter and do a sweep, grab Matron and meet us there.” Midnighter groaned.

“Why do I have to go with Agent ‘Stick in his Ass’? No offense. I don’t mind the view, but statistically, you’re more likely to shoot me than she is.” Tiger glared at the man, and stalking over him he pulled Midnighter out of his seat by the scruff of his neck.

“Do you really think I’m stupid enough to let you go snooping around Spyral grounds? Rachel may trust you but I don’t, not yet.” He turned to look back at Rachel. “Go, get Matron.” With a small nod, Rachel walked out of the room, Midnighters voice trailing after her.

“So are you going to put a shirt on stud muffin, or is Spyrals uniform a lot more casual than I thought it was?”

Matron didn’t live in the same residence hall as the other agents, her quarters were deeper into the school, near her office. Rachel had never visited before, especially so late at night, but she knew where to go. Walking quickly down the hall, she softly cursed to herself as her bare feet hit the cold stone floors. The chill resonating up her legs. She was still only dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, quickly she plucked the hair tye from her wrist and pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail in an attempt to look more presentable. When she reached the wing with Matrons office she passed the first door on her left and stopped at the one next to it. A soft light spilled underneath the door, signifying the occupier was awake despite the late hour and gently Rachel knocked. The sound echoing in the empty hallway.

When Matron opened the door she was dressed down, her usual uniform replaced with a pair of leggings and a dark green sweater. She quirked an eyebrow when she saw Rachel standing there, eyes scanning up and down taking her in before returning to meet her gaze.

“Is there a problem?” Rachel looked around her before leaning in closer and answering softly.

“Tiger is waiting for us at the old shooting range, we need to meet him there.” Matron stared at her for a moment, as though not comprehending her request. 

“Why?”

“We have an unauthorized visitor… you might want to hear what he has to say.” Matron was silent, confusion crossing her face. As though wondering who could possibly have gotten onto Spyral grounds, and why on Earth she would want to talk to them. Finally, she nodded, turning away from Rachel she pulled on a pair of rainboots sitting next to her doorway before picking up an old pair of tennis shoes and handing them to her.

“Lead the way.”

The walk across the grounds was silent. The mulching sound of feet sinking into the soft and muddy ground before pulling up with a suctioning slurp was the only thing that broke the stillness of the night.

Matron for her part didn’t ask Rachel any questions perhaps understanding that all her enquires would be answered shortly by whoever was waiting for her in the old building. When the two entered Rachel saw Tiger immediately, he had indeed put a shirt on and he was standing near the entrance waiting for them. Midnighter was nowhere to be seen, though Rachel supposed Tiger wanted a chance to warn Matron before she saw the man. Matron looked between the two of them, a no-nonsense look on her face.

“Would anyone liked to explain to me what’s going on, or am I just supposed to guess?” Tiger gave Rachel a quick look and following his gaze Matron turned to face her expectantly.

“Our unauthorized visitor is Midnighter.” Matron nodded as though she had already guessed as much. “He wanted to warn us about the Gardner.”

“What about the Gardner?”

“Apparently my boss isn’t as high and mighty as she would like the League to believe.” Matron turned around to face Midnighter who was stepping from around the corner. Rachel saw Matrons hand go to her side where her gun usually sat before they relaxed and the woman crossed them in front of her chest.

“Mr. Midnighter. How do you mean?” Midnighter snorted at the title before pulling out the file he had given to Rachel earlier and holding it out for Matron. Hesitating for a moment, Matron grabbed the file and opened it, flipping through the pages. She stopped at one and read for a moment, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “They want to use the Paragon against the League?”

“What?” Tiger asked, stepping over to read over Matron’s shoulder, before looking up at Midnighter in surprise. “You’ve been using us to get the parts, to build the android, only to steal it for yourselves?” Midnighter held up his hands in surrender. 

“In my defense, I didn’t know that was the plan until I saw Dr. Ashemoore up on the Garden. Leviticus and I were under the impression that we were trying to stop you, we’ve all been played.

“Dr. Ashemoore?” Rachel stepped over to answer Matron.

“Planted by the Gardner, she’s been puppeteering this whole task force. She wasn’t at the auction to buy the stomach, she didn’t come to us to help. She was working with Ladytron under Gardner’s orders. They knew the League would stop them if they tried to build the Paragon themselves so they are having us build it for them.” Matron shook her head, confusion written across her face.

“That’s too risky, how did they know they would be able to get the Paragon back from us once it’s built?” She looked from Rachel to Midnighter before understanding flashed across her face. “Unless Poppy isn’t the only double agent?” Rachel turned to Midnighter, unwilling to explain the next part herself. He sighed and took the folder from her hands, flipping to another page he handed it back and explained.

“The little devices implanted into your skulls? They’re not just there to hide your face, by using a select keyword an agent can be knocked unconscious or turned into a sleeper agent, completely under Gardner’s control.” Tiger reached up to touch the device behind his own ear, a blank look on his face.

“Minos approved the implants… Is he-”   
  


“He’s not a spy.” Rachel interrupted quickly, wanting to reassure him. “Or he is a spy but not a  _ spy  _ spy. Ashmoore was able to modify his own device which has made him susceptible to her suggestions. He thinks that every decision he’s made is his own, but he’s just been pushing Gardner’s narrative.” Tiger frowned.

“By why go through all this trouble? Why not just control us from the beginning?” Midnighter shrugged.

“Partly because she knows the League would stop her. She needs Spyral to be her scapegoat, once the Paragon is built she won’t need to lie anymore, the android will be too powerful. She will control you and the other agents to let her take it, and then she’ll most likely force you to fight against the heroes for her.” Matron brought her hand up and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“This isn’t right. Spyral is not against the League, we don’t intend to use the Paragon until we have to. This isn’t our mission.” The woman sounded upset, and Rachel placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t easy to hear that the thing you believed in was now being twisted and perverted into something evil. Tiger however was still staring at Midnighter.

“You say that part of the reason is that the Gardner didn’t want the League to stop her. But the league didn’t know we were after the Paragon parts.” Midnighter nodded.

“They didn’t. Not until Rachel joined.” Rachel turned to him in surprise.

“What?”

“It took time for Dr. Ashemoore to convince Minos to trust her, to get him to allow her close enough to his device unsupervised to modify it. By the time that finally happened, you had joined. The Gardner couldn’t just control everyone blindly anymore, not without alerting the Bats that something was going on.” Rachel felt strange about the revelation, on one hand, she hated Bruce for forcing her to join this mission, on the other hand, perhaps it was the only thing that had prevented Gardner from taking over Spyral. Matron looked up and stared at Rachel for awhile a calculating look on her face.

“We need to tell the Bats.” Rachel shook her head.

“No.”

“We need to. If we tell the League they’ll attack the Gardner and she’ll flip the hypnosis immediately, have us kill them or each other. The Bats are removed enough that it’s unlikely the Gardner will catch on that we know. We must move forward as though it’s business as usual and have the Bats help us on rewiring and removing the hypnosis implants. We can’t work on it here. We know Ashmoore’s against us and that Minos has been compromised but as of right now that’s  _ all  _ we know. Any number of agents could be working against us.” Rachel bit her lip, an argument brewing on her tongue. Tiger stepped up to her a soft look on his face, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Rachel, you’re the closest to the Bats. You’re the only one who can convince them to work with us.” Shaking his hand off Rachel took a step back.

“ _ No. _ ” Matron sighed and was about to speak but Rachel interrupted her. “I’m not working with them, not now, not again. Not after I made the choice to stay at Spyral. We don’t need their help.” Midnighter stepped forward.

“You do actually.” Rachel glared at him.

“I don’t  _ want _ their help.” Matron held up a placating hand.

“Rachel-” 

“No!” Rachel interrupted again. “I will not go crawling back to them. I don’t want to work with them, I don’t want to see them or talk to them. I made my choice, I can fight the Gardner without their help.” Midnighter snorted.

“Arrogance isn’t a good look on you sweetheart. Hold a grudge but don’t be stupid about it.” Before Rachel could answer a loud beeping filled the room and everyone froze. Matron looked down at the communicator on her wrist and grimaced. 

“It’s Minos, he has a mission.” She looked up and looked around the room before coming to a decision. “Midnighter, does the Gardner know you left?” He shook his head. “Go back, pretend like everything is normal, but come back here this time tomorrow night, we need to figure out a plan.” With a nod, Midnighter flicked his hand and a solid brown door appeared, with a wave he stepped into the doorway and disappeared. Matron turned to Rachel and Tiger. “Agent 37 you’re with me, Agent 1 go back to your quarters.” Tiger looked as though he was about to argue.

“Matron-”

“Go.” She said firmly, and Tiger shut his mouth. “Minos only requested Agent 1 for this mission.” Tiger paused for a moment, staring at Rachel before turning to Matron and giving a tight nod, and walking away. Matron exited the building and Rachel followed after her silently, still disgruntled.

“I will not go to them, not after everything that has happened.” Matron sighed and gave her a long look over her shoulder before continuing towards Minos’s office.

“Midnighter is right Grayson. It is arrogant to refuse help when you know you need it, even if it is from the enemy.” Rachel was about to argue again but Matron stopped her. “You’re smart, and you’re a good agent, but you’re emotional. You need to be able to separate what you  _ have  _ to do from what you  _ want  _ to do.” Rachel gave a small huff and the two women continued walking, slowly making their way down the stairs to see Minos standing at the work table. Rachel felt herself tense at the sight of the man but forced herself to relax as they approached him. 

“Matron. Agent 37. Thank you for joining me so late.” Matron nodded and walked to his side, peering down at the work table.

“What have we got?” Minos tapped the table and the image of a tall thin man was projected. He had thick gray hair that settled around his shoulders and he was wearing black pants with a black dress shirt and a clerical collar. Rachel looked to Minos in surprise.

“A priest? I’m not religious but even I think that killing him would be a bit blasphemous.” Minos smiled.

“If it makes you feel better he’s a bad priest.”

“Kinky.” 

“Agent 37.” Matron sighed looking at her exhaustingly. Rachel gave her a small smile in apology and turned back to Minos who was watching her amused. A flash of guilt flickered through her.  _ He really thinks he’s doing the right thing, he has no idea he’s being used _ . Minos tapped on the table a few more times and new images appeared, this time of various people being beaten, whipped, and branded.

“Meet Father Francis John, though he has his flock call him St. Francis. He and his church reside in Bayton Missippi which is a village of about 300. He purchased the Paragon’s skin which holds the DNA of the Green Lantern.” Rachel leaned closer to the pictures of people being tortured and frowned.

“So he’s a narcissist who thinks he’s a Saint. Why would he want a Paragon part?”

“Agent 37, what powers the Green Lanterns ring?”

“Willpower.” Minos nodded.

“Exactly. Francis saw his congregation sinning, spent hours listening to them in confessional, and he came to the conclusion that sin occurred because of a lack of willpower, more specifically the  _ will  _ to be good. He began punishing his congregation for their sins, brutally as you can see. He purchased the skin with the intention to graft it onto himself. He believed it would make him stronger, he believed with its power he could ‘save’ his flock.” Rachel shook her head.

“And what happened instead?” Minos tapped the table again, this time showing a desolate town, empty of everyone and anything.

“His followers left, every last one of them. Faith can only take a person so far, apparently seeing their priest sewing bits of flesh onto his own skin was the last straw.”

“And St. Francis?” Minos turned off the screen and looked at her.

“He hasn’t left the church, his body is rejecting the skin he attempted to implant onto himself. He’s dying. It’s only a matter of time now and he’s no longer a threat. We need you to go and retrieve the skin off of him.” Rachel let out a heavy sigh and rubbed at her eyes.

“What does it say about me that the phrase, ‘retrieve the skin off of him’ no longer phases me?”

************************************************************************

  
  


Bayton Mississippi was exactly how Rachel imagined it. It was early morning, and though the sun was just starting to break over the horizon the air was already warm and muggy. 

The village was small but clean. A white gazebo sat in the middle of what Rachel assumed was a quasi town square and the stores surrounding it were boarded up with care. It was empty, completely empty. Rachel had arrived alone, after all St. Frances was no longer deemed a threat, she landed her plane just on the outskirts of the square. The church was about a mile down the road and so Rachel began walking. Sweat already pooling at the bottom of her back and causing her hair to stick to her neck.

The rode was a dirt one, and on either side of it were freshly sowed cotton fields. Small sprigs were already poking through the ground, no doubt the townspeople had begun planting before they had fled. The church sat at the end of the rode.

The building was old but clean from the outside. The white paint was crackling and peeling slightly from the walls. The roof came to a sharp point and a small tower sat on top like a lookout, and an old wooden cross sat on the tower’s head. Rachel could see a small graveyard in the back and past that was a one-story wooden house. As she got closer she noticed strange fixtures adorning the side lawn.

There was a blackened fire pit, everything inside was charcoal and ash and a metal branding stick was propped up on its edge. Two wooden whipping posts sat next to it and Rachel could see dried blood pooled at the ground and along its beams. Rachels mind flickered back to the images that Minos had shown her and she felt disgust settle in.  _ What an awful man, how dare he torture those people under the guise of helping them. _

When she reached the church’s entrance she noticed that the door and windows were all boarded up with plywood. Walking around the building she found the back door, this was also boarded up but this time with 2x4’s. She kicked at one until it was knocked in and crouching she ducked down to crawl through the opening.

The inside of the church was not as well kept as its facade.

It was dark, the early morning light not penetrating through the covered windows. Pulling out a flashlight Rachel shined it in front of her. Trash and glass littered the floors, tables were overturned and its contents sprawled out on the ground. Pages from various bibles had been ripped at and marked upon, some had passages circled, others had scribblings in the margins, others were ripped completely in half.  _ Talk about blasphemous _ . 

There was an open doorway to her left and moving forward she looked into the chapel. Much like the back, the ground was littered with trash and glass. The pews were toppled over or pressed to the side, and the wooden pulpit was smashed to pieces.

“I’m sorry miss but there is no service today.” A quiet voice came from her left side and turning Rachel saw St. Francis sitting weakly against the wall. His face was covered in shadows and his shirt was partially unbuttoned, the white-collar sitting idly in his hand.

“St. Francis I-”   
  


“I am no Saint.” He turned to look at her and Rachel could see his face, drawn and tired. A crude skin graft crept up his neck, obviously infected and dully illuminated by a green light. She nodded and quietly made her way over to him, seeing the green glow shining partially under his shirt and on his right hand. 

“Father Francis then.” He let out a laugh, a joyless one.

“I am no Father either.” Rachel frowned, this was not the man she had expected to meet. He noticed her look and nodded. “You are surprised? That is understandable. I’m sure you did your research, you expected a mad man who deemed himself a Saint and tortured his congregation. I was that man, but now I am dying and there is finally clarity.” He gestured next to him and slowly Rachel took a seat, still leaving some room in case this was an elaborate trap.

“Do you know why I am here?” He shrugged, a small movement that justled his body just enough for him to start coughing violently, blood splattering on his hand when he reached up to cover his mouth.

“I hope it’s not for confessional, I am afraid I am no longer fit to help anyone.” Rachel laughed slightly at the suggestion.

“No, it’s not that.” He looked up at her surprised at the reaction and she felt the need to clarify. “Sorry, not that there is anything wrong with that. I’m just not...I don’t believe in- I haven’t spent much time in a church.” He nodded in understanding.

“Before I would have reprimanded you. Now… I wonder if I spent too much time here.” He looked around sorrow etched on his face. 

“How do you mean?” He let out a deep sigh and thought for a moment before answering.

“I’ve been in charge of this congregation for 30 some years. I have seen deaths and births and marriages and divorce. And sin, so much sin. People would come in, people I had known all their lives and they would tell me their deepest secrets, their guilt. And they would repent but then they would come in and do it again. They confessed because they were expected to, but they didn’t work to better themselves, they weren’t looking to be absolved. And so I read and re-read the scripture, looking for anything that might help me to help them. But in my desire to help I became the sinner.” Rachel took in his words and looked around the chapel. 

“And everyone left you, and now you’re dying and your congregation is traumatized. Was it worth it? What sins could they have possibly committed to have deserved the treatment you bestowed upon them. An extramarital affair? Maybe they shoplifted, or lied? Not great things to do, but to call them sinners because of it?” The Priest cleared his throat, eyes tearing up slightly.

“I made a mistake, lost myself to my cause.” She thought of Bruce, he was not as cruel as this man was, but also not as introspective.

“Yeah, I know someone like that.” Her words came out bitter and he turned to look at her.

“People think God is asking us to repent, I thought that myself, but now I wonder if the only thing he asks of us is to forgive.” Rachel looked at him cooly.

“Do you truly think that or do you only wish it was true?” He huffed out a laugh.

“I admit that it gives a dying man solace to think that.” Rachel shook her head.

“And accountability? You hurt all those people, you punished them for ‘sinning’. But now that you’re the sinner you want to preach forgiveness?” Francis shrugged again.

“I’m not a good man, miss. I thought I was but I am not.”  _ At least he is admitting it _ . Rachel turned away from him again, her mind drifting back to Bruce. She wasn’t sure what promopted her to say her next thought. Perhaps it was the fact that the man was talking about forgiveness. Perhaps it was the fact that soon her would be dead. Regardless, Rachel spoke.

“He didn’t apologize.”  _ That’s the problem, isn’t it _ ? “He didn’t apologize at all, he looked sorry, guilty, and he yelled but he didn’t say he was sorry.” The two were quiet for a moment, Francis coughing once more before finally responding.

“If he did, would you forgive him?” 

“I don’t know if I can.” She saw Francis nod his head in understanding out of her peripheral.

“You have time to do so, you are young.” Rachel shook her head.

“I don’t know if I  _ want _ to.” She turned to face him once more and he was watching her curiously. “I kept forgiving him, after everything, time after time I forgave him. And you might think ‘what’s once more’ but if I forgive him again this time, what’s to stop me from doing it again next time? Where do I draw the line.” Francis stared at her for a moment, thinking.

“Peter came to Jesus and asked, ‘Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?’ Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” Rachel looked at him incredulously.

“Did you just quote the bible to me, isn’t that a bit overkill?” He let out a genuine laugh and Rachel felt herself smile in response. He looked back at her, a look of understanding on his face.

“Forgiveness is not an acquittal, it is not an allowance for things to go back to what they were. It is acceptance and the will to move forward.” Rachel’s thoughts went to her family, standing on the roof, a look of sorrow etched onto their faces.

“Do not punish the sons for the sins of their Father.” She whispered to herself, he looked at her in confusion.

“Sorry?”

“I have siblings, it’s not their fault that what happened, happened. But it feels strange to talk with them now. Like it’s too late to ask them for help.” Francis shook his head.

“Do not allow your anger to isolate yourself and drive others away.” Rachel scoffed.

“Your one to talk.” A strange look appeared on his face and she immediately felt guilty. “Sorry, that was out of line.”

“No, it was not. I never said I’m not a hypocrite, but now I understand where I went wrong.” He paused before continuing. “Admitting you need help is powerful and you do not need to forgive to do it.” Rachel felt herself become defensive.

“I can handle things myself, I’ve done just fine so far, and I can figure things out without them.” Francis laughed again.

“The young are arrogant.” Rachel let out an indignant noise but he continued. “That is not an insult my dear. Right now you are the wisest you have ever been but that does not mean you are wise.” He lifted up a weak hand and placed it over her’s. “The choices we make are rarely all or nothing, more often than not it is a compromise. That’s where I went wrong.” He took a deep breath and looked around, his eyelids fluttering slightly. “This is what my arrogance brought me. Dying alone, killed by my own foolishness.” Rachel shook her head.

“You’re a strange man Francis.” He smiled again.

“I know you’re here for the skin. I know you could have just killed me and taken it… Thank you for sitting and talking with me for a while. It was a kindness I did not deserve.” Rachel smiled back.

“I used to think that even the worse people still had humanity within them. I used to believe that people were inherently good.” Francis closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall.

“And now?” Rachel thought for a moment.

“It doesn’t matter if people are inherently good or bad, what matters is what they decide to  _ do _ .” 

“I guess that means I’m a pretty bad man. Will you pray for me?” Rachel had no desire to lie to a dying man.

“I don’t believe in any of this, it would be an empty prayer… You’ve hurt many people, tortured and traumatized them, but I guess you can take solace that you helped me.” He smiled one last time before his face and body went limp, finally passing away.

Rachel collected the Paragon skin quietly and as delicately as she could. The act felt almost sacred like she was preparing him for burial. She didn’t have the time to do that however so once she finished she pulled a colored table cloth off of what she had assumed been some sort of alter and draped it over him, covering his face. Then she headed back to the plane.

When she arrived back at Spyral it was once again nighttime and by the time she gave her mission report to Minos and dropped off the part to the lab, it was nearly time to meet Midnighter again. Quickly she made her way across the lawn and as she approached the old building she heard loud voices echoing from within. When she entered she saw Tiger and Midnighter standing in front of one another, shouting about something, and Matron was watching the two with an unimpressed look on her face. She gave a small cough to announce her presence and all three turned to her.

“I’ll talk to the Bats, I’ll get them to help us.

  
  
  


************************************************************************

  
  


Tim stood on the building roof, his black cape whipping around him as he waited. His eyes staring at, but not seeing the Gotham skyline. His mind was not in Gotham, his mind was in Israel, on another building roof, watching his sister walk away from their family, from  _ him _ . 

He knew he wasn’t Rachels favorite sibling. He wasn’t blind and he wasn’t stupid. He knew that she and Damian had a special connection, and barring that, she went to Jason for comfort and advice. He knew that she and Cass had bonded in ways he couldn’t understand, especially after Jason’s death. He was an outsider in his family, always looking in, always watching the others. He always helped, but they didn’t truly need his help. And he had accepted that. He had accepted that he hadn’t meant that much to his siblings.

But they meant the world to him. And Rachel just left. Without a second thought.

And Tim was angry with her. Because he got it. He understood that what Bruce had done was wrong, he understood that she had been grieving and in pain when she had joined Spyral. But that wasn’t  _ his  _ fault. And still, she left.

A quiet rustling came from behind him, and Tim waited as Stephanie made his way over to him. Peering out onto the city before turning her gaze to his face.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Hmm?”

“Oracle said you’d been standing in this same spot for the last two minutes. Either you’re on a lookout or you’re brooding.” Tim turned to look at Stephanie an unimpressed look on his face.

“Oracles been tracking me?” Stephanie gave a shrug before sitting down on the ledge, feet dangling off the side.

“She’s worried. It’s not just you, she’s keeping tabs on everyone”.  _ Of course, why would this be about me? _ Tim sat down next to Stephanie without a word and the two just sat for a moment.

“So if you’re not brooding what are you doing?’

“Thinking.”

“Ahh, what are you thinking about?”

“Things.”

“I know you and Bruce are similar but the one-worded answers are annoying even when he does it.” Tim glared at her, and she grimaced. “Right sorry, probably not the comparison you want to hear right now.” Tim turned away from her, guilt settling in his stomach. He used to love being compared to Bruce but now? There was no greater insult.  _ So use your words, Bruce wouldn’t be caught dead talking about his feelings _ . With a sigh, Tim looked back at Stephanie.

“It’s about Rachel”. Stephanie nodded unsurprised. “I just… I don’t get it. I don’t understand how it was so easy for her to just leave us.” Stephanie furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“She’s not gone forever Tim.”

“Isn’t she?” He spat back, his anger growing once more. “She killed people, she turned her back on us. We didn’t do anything wrong, it’s not our fault Bruce did what he did. But she so easily abandoned all of us. It just doesn’t make sense” Stephanie glared at his words.

“It wasn’t easy, things aren’t always black and white. People aren’t equations or puzzles to solve. It doesn’t matter if Rachel’s choice doesn’t make sense to you, it makes sense to  _ her _ .” Stephanie shook her head and turned away from him. “She’s been through hell, literal hell. Of course she’s not going to respond in the way you predicted.”

“You make it sound like I’m some cold analytical being.”

“Sometimes you are.” Hurt flashed in his chest and Tim stood up and walked away from Stephanie.

“I’m not like him.” Stephanie turned to look at him.

“Who?”

“B. I’m  _ not _ him.” He was angry, angry because he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. “Just because I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve doesn’t mean I don’t care. That doesn’t mean I’m  _ cold _ . I’m allowed to be angry I’m allowed to be irrational because this sucks. And it doesn’t suck because I didn’t  _ predict _ it would happen. I’m not mad because I can’t make sense of Rachel’s choice. I’m mad  _ at  _ Rachel’s choice.” The look on Stephanie’s face softened and she stood up to walk closer to him.

“Tim-”

“Am I not allowed to have an opinion?” He asked her genuinely, tears building up in his eyes. “I get it, I’m not Damian, I’m not her Father. I’m not Jason, I don’t understand her anger. I’m not Cass, I’m not her sister. But I’m  _ me _ . She is my family, I am in this family, and it’s falling apart and I am angry.” Stephanie reached out and grabbed his arm pulling him into a hug.

“No one is saying you’re not a part of this family Tim, of course you are.” He buried his head deeper into her shoulder.

“Everything is falling apart and it’s not Rachel’s fault. But if she had come home we could fix it, with her gone we can’t.” Stephanie pulled back from him and looked him in the eyes.

“You can’t fix everything. But Rachel will come back, we can work on fixing things when she does.” Before he could answer a loud beeping came from his gauntlet and looking down he saw a message from Oracle asking to meet at the Clocktower. When he looked back up he saw that Stephanie was reading a message of her own. With an apologetic look, she pulled out her grappling hook. “Duty calls, we’ll talk about this more after we see what Oracle wants.”

  
  
  


************************************************************************

  
  


“I miss the old days. Back when I only saw you all once a month for Arkham breakouts or end of the world battles.” Jason said as he entered the Clocktower, taking in his siblings who were grouped around the room. Honestly, he didn’t mind seeing them all, but he needed a moment alone after the bombshells from the last month. Barbara shot him an annoyed look.

“You’re late.” Jason shrugged and hopped onto the couch, kicking his legs up onto the coffee table.

“I was busy Barbie.” Barbara shook her head and picked up a phone, waiting for a moment before the person on the other end answered. “Did you just summon us so that we could watch you make a call? If it’s for pizza I’ll take a large mushroom with black olives.” Barbra waved at him to be quiet but he caught Stephanie grinning from behind her hand.

“We’re all here. Can you still come?” Barbara waited for an answer before hanging up. Almost instantly a doorway appeared and Midnighter stepped out, trench coat billowing behind him. After a moment another smaller figure stepped out and Jason felt himself stand from the couch in surprise.

“Rachel.” His sister turned to him and they stared at one another for a moment before she gave him a tiny smile. Relief rushed through Jason and he was sure he wasn’t the only one. He saw Damian fidgeting next to Barbara, as though he longed to go over and hug her, but he was restraining himself. Cass and Stephanie were grinning at the sight of her, and Tim looked a mixture of relieved and constipated. He turned his gaze back to Rachel and took her in.  _ She’s tired, she’s been awake for a while. She’s in her Spyral uniform, was she on a mission? Why is she here, is everything okay _ ? Everyone was silent as Rachel looked around the room, gaze landing on Barbara, and giving her a small smile.

“Hey Babs, long time no see.” Her voice was soft and lighter than it had been on the roof.  _ Probably because Bruce isn’t here _ . Barbra smiled back in return, before she could respond MIdnighter spoke up.

“As touching as I’m sure this reunion will be, we have more pressing matters to deal with.” Finally, Damian spoke up.

“What’s wrong?” Midnighter looked from him to Rachel for a moment.

“Do you want to tell them sweetheart or should I?” Jason felt himself glower at the nickname and he noticed the others do the same. Midnighter looked around and let out a loud laugh. “Relax Bats, she’s not my type. Besides I’m pretty sure Tiger would actually murder me if I tried anything on his girlfriend.”

“Midnighter  _ shut-up. _ ” Rachel’s voice was annoyed and exasperated, and Jason was so relieved to hear her not sound angry that he nearly missed Midnighters words.

“I’m sorry, who the fuck is Tiger? Please tell me he’s not the Agent who was ogling you on the roof.” Rachel went red and Jason felt his stomach drop.  _ Rachel is dating someone, my little sister is dating a man. I hate that.  _ He could see a similar look of distaste on Damian and Tim’s face, but Stephanie let out a loud laugh.

“Yes Rachel, get it. He was hot!” If possible Rachel got redder and she turned away from the blonde.

“As much as I would love to talk about my love life, Midnighter is right, we came here for a reason.” And suddenly she was serious. An unusual look on his little sister. Even as Robin she never took herself too seriously, and the difference was unsettling. She walked over to Barbra and pulled out a hard drive. “May I?” Barbra nodded and moved out of the way and Rachel pulled up the drive. The others moved closer as several different files came up.

“What is this?” Damian asked softly, and Jason saw Rachel tense at the sound. Anger rushed through him.  _ She shouldn’t feel uncomfortable around us, we’re her family _ . Rachel answered.

“We can’t walk you through everything right now, Minos will notice if we’re gone for long. But this is everything you need to know. Long story short, we need your help.” Jason stepped forward.

“You need  _ our  _ help?” Rachel turned to look at him, a guarded look on her face.

“No. Spyral does.” A loud scoff came from behind him and Jason saw Tim glaring at their sister.

“You join an evil spy organization and you want us to help  _ them.  _ Are you insane?” Jason glared at his brother's words but Rachel just stared at him unimpressed.

“Just because we don’t work for the League doesn’t mean we're evil. Besides it turns out the League isn’t the best judge of character.” Tim rolled his eyes.

“If you’re talking about Bruce-”

“No.” Midnighter interrupted, stepping forward. “She’s talking about the Gardener.” 

And then Midnighter explained, everything. And with each and every word Jason felt himself getting more and more worried. When the man stopped talking everyone was silent and staring at Rachel, who remained still, face blank.

“So when do we get started? Everyone turned to look at Jason but he was still staring at his sister. “Rachel has a device in her head that with the use of one word can turn her into a mindless soldier. I’d like to get it off of her as soon as possible.” Tim stepped forward.

“Jay, I understand what you’re saying but Spyral-” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Shut the fuck up Timmy.” He turned to look at the rest of his siblings. “Look I get it, you don’t like Spyral, you don’t like that Rachels a spy. But guess what? I don’t give a fuck. You didn’t like it when I became Red Hood either, and you couldn’t stop me then, just like you can’t stop her now. She’s not the enemy,  _ they’re  _ not the enemy just because you disagree with their methods.” Tim wouldn’t back down.

“They’ve killed people-” Jason scoffed.

“Get off your high horse. We’ve all killed people. Who have they killed? Terrorist, human traffickers?” He looked back at Rachel. “Rachel needs help, I’m going to help her. Besides the League should be thanking us. It sounds like the Gardners plans for Paragon are a lot deadlier than Spyrals.” Rachel stared at him for a moment, face still blank. Slowly she walked over to him, and when she was close enough she reached out a pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thank you.” Her voice was quiet and Jason felt relief as he wrapped his own arms around her.  _ There she is _ . He looked over at Damian, who nodded at him in approval before walking over to Midnighter.

“The files. Do they contain scans of the hypnosis devices or will we need to take our own?” Midnighter waved his hand and a door appeared again.

“Everything you need will be in there. We better get going. Matron is covering our asses but it’s not good for either Agent 37 or myself to be away for long.” Jason felt his sister pull away from his arms, and for one desperate minute, he tightened his hold.  _ Not yet, don’t leave yet _ . Eventually, he let go and Stephanie bounded over and lifted the girl up in a quick hug.

“I didn’t get a chance to say anything on the roof but Bruce is a dick and I’ve got your back.” Rachel let out a small laugh and the sound warmed Jasons’ chest. With a small pat, Rachel was released from Stephanie and she turned to Cass who had walked up when Stephanie had. The two stared at one another and seemed to have a short conversation, Jason wondered what on Earth they could be saying. Eventually they hugged, albeit this one smaller than Stephanies had been. Tim was still withdrawn and Jason wanted to hit him.  _ Rachels back you idiot, hug her _ . But he did no such thing. Instead, he watched as his sister turned to walk back to Midnighter. Damian stood at his side watching her hesitantly.

“Grayson. I am glad that you are unharmed, do not fret we will work on freeing you and your colleagues from the devices implanted in your cranium.” Jason suppressed a snort, Damian always became overly formal when he was nervous. Rachel shook her head in amusement and hugged him tightly.

“We’re good Dami. It’s not you I’m mad at, I was just feeling a little overwhelmed the last time we spoke.” The relief on Damian’s face was palpable and the man leaned into the hug.

“Be safe Rachel… You can do better than a spy.” Jason did snort at that and Rachel pulled back to glare at him, but Jason just smiled at her when he saw there was no heat behind it.

“My love life? Off-limits. Got it?” Jason held up his hands.

“Whatever you say Goldie.” A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips and Rachel took a step towards Midnighter. The man opened the door and stepped through and Rachel followed. Grabbing the doorknob she was about to close it when she looked at them all again.

  
“I love you guys. I… I can’t deal with Bruce but  _ you’re  _ my family. No matter what.” And she gently pulled the door shut, causing it to disappear from the room.


End file.
